Betrayal may be a family thing
by Sinattea
Summary: England, after the Voyage at the Dawntreader, none of the Pevensies can ever go back to Narnia... or so Aslan said, but: How far can a Pevensie go just to see Narnia again? Perhaps far enough to commit... treason? - - - Chapter 6: If Peter found out a dreadful secret about the White Witch, would he keep it just to have something Narnian to hold onto? - - - On HIATUS.
1. At the train station

**"Betrayal may be a family thing".**

By Sinattea.

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_**Disclaimer:**_ I so love Narnia, and if I had the chance I would stay in there forever without hesitate, but that doesn't mean I own it. I only dream of it.

_**Summary:**_ After the voyage at the Dawntreader, none of the Pevensies can ever go back to Narnia. Or so Aslan said. Things simply change, and both stupid and terrible mistakes are at the order of the day. How far can a Pevensie go, just to see Narnia again?

Possible PP/OC, LP/OC, SP/CX (possible means definite), but no love is happening yet.

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_**Note:**_ All right, this fic is an idea that one day simply popped into my mind, and I felt it was worthy to be written. Narnia is actually one of my favorite books/movies ever, so it's time for me to write something about it.

This fic will show a different part of the Pevensies personalities, and I'll introduce some characters of mi own creation (if you give them a chance, I promise you'll like them).

Protagonists will change according to the chapters, and I'll try to give every character a fair starring moment. It's a fic intended to be enjoyed by every kind of public, so I'm not focusing on Peter as I would have normally done.

- Dialogue –

"Thoughts"… most of times.

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So read, enjoy, and (please) review.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Chapter 1: At the train station.**

**.**

How long had it been? How many months, how many years? How many rainy days and stormy nights? The world seemed to be just darker since Edmund and Lucy had come back from their last journey to Narnia. That was the final word, followed by the spooky final period: never more would they see again the green meadows, the endless forests, and the indomitable sea. No more talking animals, fauns, centaurs or dryads. No more magic.

That was it.

And yet they had to carry on. It was easy for Susan, whose romantic life seemed to be entertaining enough to keep her thoughts far away from the past. But it wasn't easy for Lucy, whose dreams told her stories of Aslan and the sons of the sons of Caspian. It wasn't easy for Edmund, who missed the adventure and the satisfaction of victory. It wasn't easy for Peter either, who yearned for the royal respect and the epic journeys.

Narnia had simply changed them, and the routines of regular world would be never enough to make them feel complete.

So depressing thoughts and so many dreamless nights.

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After the war, which had successfully ended with the Nazi defeat, things in England were changing, moving quite faster than they did before. The proof of it? Now the four Pevensie siblings were about to attend a boarding school for both male and female, which was a weird thing, but was becoming pretty common all around the world.

Anyway, they could do nothing more than being happy: this time they wouldn't have to separate at the train station, and wait months to see each other again. Specially because, after the last journey, Lucy and Edmund were more united than ever, and with the new routine, Susan wanted her brothers' protection and help to keep the unwanted suitors away (after all, she was the pretty girl of the family).

So, there they were, sitting together at the train station one more time, all of them dressed in the same dark green uniforms, with hats and scarves, for it was a rainy day.

- Come on, Peter, what do you have? – asked Edmund, with a mischievous and triumphant smile drawing in his face.

Peter sighed, pretty bored, and a little bit frustrated. Since they started playing poker, Edmund hadn't lost one single game, and that made the younger boy feel superior, and the older boy feel like kicking his brother's butt.

- All right, I lost – he said, dropping his cards on the bench.

- Again – specified Edmund, and chuckled -. I'm becoming quite good at this, don't you think?

- I wouldn't think so. It's just luck.

- There is no such thing as luck – said Susan, sitting next to her older brother -. He is better than you, admit it.

- I will not. I will never – he smiled -. Let us fight properly and I'll demonstrate who is better.

Susan did a reproachful gesture, but she didn't say anything. Yet she couldn't understand why her brother didn't seem to let all that business go. Narnia was in the past, and their future, their lives in London, weren't bad at all. Edmund looked down, suddenly finding the floor extremely interesting; he felt as melancholic as his brother about their long lost kingdom.

Then Lucy walked towards them, smiling and humming one of the popular songs of the time.

- Who won the card game? – she asked. She was already taller and prettier than the humble girl who had visited Narnia, and she was proving herself as smart as Susan, sometimes even smarter.

- I did – Edmund answered, and moved aside to make room for her sister in the seat; anyway, Peter stood up.

- Then this is for you – and she placed a chocolate in her brother's hands.

- Where did you get that? – Peter asked, the uncomfortable defeating opened up his appetite.

- There is a new store, across the street. I invited you to come before, but you were busy playing and losing.

Everybody but Peter laughed, and the guy just rolled over his eyes and sighed again. He put his hands inside his pockets and announced his siblings that he was going to get something to eat. The train would arrive at any minute, and he was hungry. So he left, promising Susan to skim through the newspapers and tell her the remarkable events of the day.

Peter got across the street and walked directly toward the new store, whose sign said, written in purple ink, "Toffees and more". The place was crowded with people, most of them students waiting for their trains and regular people hiding from the rain.

He entered the store and took a fast look around the room, only to satisfy his curiosity. It was an uncommon place, decorated with pastel colors and furniture made of what seemed to be candies (Just like a candy-store from "Pushing daisies" or "Charlie and the chocolate factory" would look like). He didn't think to wait on beeline just to get a couple of chocolates in a place as weird as that one, so he went straight to the newspaper-stand and read the headlines of the most of them; nothing was interesting for him.

Then, the thing of the utmost weirdness happened… the song… _That_ song.

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Peter was rudely pulled out of his mind by the familiar melody that wasn't supposed to be known in this world. He looked around, searching for the source of the music, and found a dark-haired girl, sitting apart from everybody else, playing an old violin for herself, even when the people buying showed an obvious interest in her music.

The Pevensie guy approached to her, and remained there, watching her open-mouthed, finding hard to believe what his ears heard. That was the lullaby Tumnus used to play for them in the Throne Hall during the calmed nights; Lucy's favorite melody. How could it be that a human girl played _"A Narnia Lullaby"_ in London?

The girl finished playing and rapidly put her violin away when she noticed all those looks upon her and her instrument. She had just closed the case when she realized Peter's eyes staring at her. Then she felt something strange, like an enormous, impossible to explain respect. And that made her uncomfortable.

- A beautiful melody, the one you played – said Peter, staring suspiciously.

- Oh, thanks.

- I could swear I've heard it before. What composer is it from?

- Anyone you'd know – she said, placing the case on her back, ready to leave at any second.

- Oh, I know a lot about music – he lied -. I will recognize the composer's name.

- No, you wouldn't – there was just something… defying in her gray eyes that intrigued Peter the most -. I composed that melody myself.

- Then you did an excellent job. May I know your name… as a composer?

Peter's aura was full of superiority and strength, yet the girl smiled sarcastically, letting him know that she was speaking no more. But that day the older of the Pevensies had a squall of luck.

- Arabelle! – called the store-tender, in a worried tone of voice (which sounded funny because the man had a strong foreign accent and actually pronounced the name as "Ahrrahbell") -. Your train is here. You better hurry, sweetie.

Peter realized immediately the man was talking to that girl. She just closed her eyes embarrassed and breathed upset, then dedicated a killing glare to the man who was allegedly her father.

- Yeah, _danke_.

The girl faced Peter again and harshly smiled to dissimulate the shame she felt. Then she took her sweater, raincoat and suitcase and left the store as fast as she could.

- See you later, Arabelle – Peter said to himself, sarcastically.

He would definitely come back to this store, to know more about this girl who had such an excellent knowledge about Narnian music.

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When Peter joined his siblings, the train was about to leave.

- You are so late! – Susan claimed, and got on the train, following Lucy.

Edmund was carrying his brother's suitcase, and immediately gave it to him when saw him. The youngest noticed that something was troubling his brother, because Peter didn't reproach anything to him for dropping his luggage.

- Is everything all right? – Edmund asked.

- Yes, it's only… Something strange just happened. But I'll tell you later, let's get on the train, or it'll leave without us.

- I bet the girls wouldn't like that - he laughed.

So they started the journey, heading all together for the first time to their new school.

A mysterious future ahead, a magical past far behind.

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><p><em><strong>Note (again):<strong>_

This is only the beginning, simple and short one. But things will get very interesting, I promise, because I can foretell that the borders between Narnia and Earth will fade away.

First chapters will be short, but as the story develops and Narnia takes more importance, they will be a little longer.

I hope you enjoyed and give this fic a chance.

_Write a review if you liked._


	2. The last wagon

**"Betrayal may be a family thing".**

By Sinattea.

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_**Disclaimer:**_ I so love Narnia, and if I had the chance I would stay in there forever without hesitate, but that doesn't mean I own it. I only dream of it.

_**Summary:**_ After the voyage at the Dawntreader, none of the Pevensies can ever go back to Narnia. How far can a Pevensie go, just to see Narnia again?

Today's chapter focuses on_ Lucy_ and _Susan_.

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_**Note:**_ Been gone for a long while, I know, and probably many were expecting for an update in my Kuroshitsuji fics, I know, but inspiration doesn't seem to come on that way. Lately I have dedicated myself to write an original story which I've been trying to finish for years now, so I have inspirational priorities.

Still, I love this fic and I already had written a fair amount of chapters, so it's the only thing I have to update. Want other fics to come back? I propose a deal: you R&R this one and I update the other ones.

Question: does that deal sound bossy/bitchy? Damn! I've spent a lot of time with bitchy people lately… (u_u)

Anyway: read, enjoy, review!

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Chapter 2: The last wagon.**

**.**

- This is going to be a long journey – declared Susan once on board, plainly bored.

- It shouldn't be, I mean, we're all together – said Edmund, and fished his pack of cards out of his pocket -. Let's make this funnier.

The smile in his face was simply great.

- No, thanks – immediately replied Peter, as soon as he saw the cards. Edmund laughed, and so did Lucy.

- I would like to learn – she said.

- It's not lady business, Lu – reminded Susan, and grabbed a magazine from her suitcase. It was a magazine about art, one of Susan's latest interests.

- Don't like, don't play – said Edmund harshly. Sometimes he hated that I-am-a-lady behavior Susan and Lucy used lately when they were in public.

Susan stared at him amidst annoyance and surprise. Then, her dignity told her to go away before they could get mad at each other, and she decided to do so.

- Perhaps that would be the best – she stood up, holding her magazine firmly, and left the cabin.

- You shouldn't have said that – muttered Peter, dropping his cards -. You know how nervous Susan has been lately, about this school matter. She has a lot in her mind.

- We are all nervous, but she's been acting weird lately.

- I think _we_ are the ones acting odd ways – mentioned Lucy, in a reprimand tone of voice. Sometimes it was good to remember which one of them had already accepted their destiny in England.

- You should go and find Susan, Lu – commanded Peter, just as he would do as a king. He had understood the meaning of his sister's commentary.

The younger girl nodded a little, and left the train small cabin to wander around the endless hallways (it was quite a big train, if Susan wanted to avoid all of them during the whole journey, she could easily do so). After she was gone, none of her brothers wanted to speak, so Edmund decided playing would be the best to get their minds cleared up. He had a hard time convincing Peter, but the blond guy finally accepted the bunch of cards.

- Next time we should play dominoes… or chess – suggested Peter.

- Chess makes me feel too homesick – of course, Edmund meant the days they played with their solid golden chess set in Narnia.

- That's exactly why I want to play it.

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Lucy was as lost as it is possible to be in a closed place. She had already checked three wagons and there was no clue of where Susan could be. Lucy thought she might be at the dinning wagon, drinking some tea while trying to read peacefully, but she had no idea where the dinning wagon was, back or forth? Not to mention it was a very large train. So she went without knowledge to the last wagon, and took a surprising look at the little balcony that is always at the very end of trains. The landscape moved rapidly beside it, interrupted here and there by the train's intruder shadow. The railways seemed almost unreal, so fast they appeared from under the vehicle.

Obviously Susan couldn't be there. So Lucy should be getting back to the safe inside.

- Needed some fresh air? – a female voice asked.

Lucy startled, and though for a moment she thought that it was Susan's, she eliminated the idea at the second, knowing her sister didn't have a voice as cold as that one. The Pevensie girl turned back. There was a dark-haired girl with gray eyes, sitting right there. She was strongly holding herself onto the balustrade, to keep her balance.

- Not really… I was looking for my sister – Lucy said -. Have you seen her?

- There aren't many people to see in here. Besides, I would have to know first how she looks like so I can tell you if I've seen her – the dark-haired girl laughed. Her laughing was quite weird, shy but somehow creepy.

- You are right – Lucy blushed, and prepared to leave -. Sorry I bothered you.

- So sad. I thought I wasn't the only one who needed the air of wider horizons.

Lucy stayed in her place, her feet stuck to the floor. She had to grab the balustrade too.

- I would almost think that you don't like trains very much.

For a second the girl's face hid in the shadow of her black hair, but she shrugged and stared far away, suddenly trying to avoid Lucy's eyes. She felt like it was an enormous lack of respect to look right into them.

- I don't, actually. You could say that I have train claustrophobia.

- "Train claustrophobia"? – Lucy smiled - And what is that?

- Just what makes me want to jump off trains all of the time.

They both laughed for a moment. And the railway's noise swallowed their voices. A moment of silence came, when Lucy was deciding whether to leave or not. For some reason she stayed, feeling that the girl was an interesting person, the kind of person she liked to meet. "Just like what I felt when I first met Mr. Tumnus" she thought.

- Are you a student from Britton's College? – the dark-haired, gray-eyed girl asked.

- I am to be. Just like everybody else in this train.

- I'll be attending classes at Britton's as well – she said, and half-smiled.

- I should have guessed so – Lucy felt a little silly, the fact was actually pretty evident: the girl was Susan's age, or younger -. But you are not wearing any uniform yet.

- I'd rather change my clothes once we arrive. I have plenty of bad luck.

The half-smile completely vanished from her face. Yes. She had bad luck, because it was easy for her to run into serious troubles. If anyone overheard the wrong information about her, she'd find herself in the need of starting a fight, and her uniform would be made a total mess in less than half an hour. "Fight once and you'll find yourself forced to fight your entire life". Her tutor had said those words to her a long time ago.

- Is that the reason why you carry that necklace? – Lucy's voice brought everything back to reality.

- Umh… Yes – she finally understood what the red-haired girl meant -. This is an amulet – she touched the medallion with a stylized snowflake engraved on the silver -. A magical medallion.

- Do you believe it works?

- Well, that depends on the person who carries it. If you think this is nonsense load of waffle, then it definitely doesn't work. But – her voice changed, became soft, endearing and melancholic - if you believe in magic… in a Deep Magic… flowing beyond this horizons… Then it's definitely a mighty amulet.

Lucy hadn't heard words like that since the last time Peter had dared to speak of Aslan, and it had been a lot of time since then. Months, actually. They liked no longer to speak of that subject. The yearning of Narnia grew too big when they did.

But this time, hearing about magic and different, distant horizons from this girl's voice, wasn't so bad. Perhaps Peter and Edmund should listen too, and feel, just as she did, that someone else understood their secret pain. Yes, Lucy certainly would like to meet this girl.

- My name is Lucy – she said, and moved her hand forward, to introduce herself properly -, Lucy Pevensie.

Pevensie? Where had she heard that name?

- Arabelle – the dark-haired girl answered, and shook Lucy's hand as it was the proper thing to do.

- You know? Once I think about it, I have never understood why we shake hands.

- Neither have I – this time Arabelle genuinely laughed -. We might never know, that's simply what people do when they meet each other.

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Susan was reading and re-reading her magazine while sitting alone on a table at the dinning wagon. She felt pretty sad whenever they spoke about Narnia, but she didn't want her siblings to notice; she didn't want them to discover that whenever she thought of Narnia, she didn't remember something from the past, she remembered _someone_ from her past…

"Move on – she repeated to herself -, you have to move on, Susan… Forget _him_".

As she delayed with decisions inside her own head, someone had been looking at her quite interested. This guy, with Peter's age, seemed to fancy the older Pevensie girl, so he stood up from the table where he was sitting with his friends and walked towards Susan.

- May I seat? – he asked in a completely innocent voice, as if he were a poor lonely guy who didn't find place to seat at any other table.

- There's plenty of room – she answered, hardly raising her eyes from her lecture.

- Interesting magazine. Are you an artist?

- No, I just enjoy… it…

Even when Susan was already planning some elegant strategy to get rid of this annoying suitor, she completely forgot everything about her plan when saw him. Long black hair, dark eyes, thin lips; different eyebrows, nose and chin, and yet so similar to _him_… Susan went speechless as the most handsome guy from London (who painfully resembled a prince named Caspian) stared smiley at her.

- Have we… met before? – she stuttered. The guy chuckled charmingly.

- I was going to ask you the same thing. I'm Charles, Charles Parker.

- Susan Pevensie.

They shook hands as Charles smiled widely and Susan blushed little bit. Who was him? A ghost, a shadow sent to stop her from forgetting the love she had once lost?

He looked like Caspian, his voice was like Caspian's… Who was this guy? Susan seemed to forget those questions as she started speaking to Charles Parker, who was by far the cleverest and most charming boy she had met in this world.

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Back at the last wagon, Lucy spent several minutes talking to her new friend (yes, she decided to call her a friend, since they talked of almost the same things Lucy talked about with Mr. Tumnus when they first met), and when she realized that she should go back with her brothers the train had almost reached the Britton's station.

Back at the cabin, Susan walked in, calmed and smiley, as if she had never left.

- Where have you been? – Edmund asked - We're almost there.

- I was the whole time reading at the dinning wagon. Where's Lucy?

- She went to look for you – said Peter -. Didn't she find you?

- Well, she obviously didn't. Where is she? – now Susan sounded quite worried.

- Lucy… – Peter panted. Since every adventure in Narnia it had become a custom to worry more and more about her. She was always the one heading with blind faith just everywhere.

They were all about to leave the cabin in a desperate race to go and find their smallest sister, when Lucy walked inside the train room just as smiling and dreamer as usual, or maybe a little bit more than usual.

- You won't believe what just happened to me – she said, glad.

- Lucy! Where were you? – Susan held her in her arms, as a terrified sister does. Then let her go and stared at her with a furious older-sister-look, as if Lucy had taken and worn her clothes without permission.

- I was looking for you – she said, calmly -, and as I couldn't find you anywhere I decided to stay at the last wagon talking to this nice girl – she turned to her brothers -. I made a new friend, she's just like Mr. Tumnus.

Edmund was about to say "We were worried about you", but his words froze deep in his throat. Peter's reaction was colder, his entire body paralyzed, and only one thing inside him kept working: his mind, but just one specific part of it, his memories.

- Mr… Tumnus? – the blonde muttered.

- Peter, stop it – said Susan, trying to stop the memories from remembering too much. They needed no more reasons to feel homesick.

- Mr. Tumnus? – Peter repeated - A new friend just like him? – he was mildly surprised.

- What is she? A faun girl? – joined Edmund, trying to dissimulate his melancholy with sarcasm.

- No – Lucy moaned -. Though she likes sardines as well… Oh, and music, she loves music.

One corner of Peter's mind recalled that he'd had a peculiar experience with music that day in the morning. A fortunate event, indeed; he had almost forgotten the strange violinist. He wanted to speak with Edmund about it. Narnian music suddenly spreading throughout human world was definitely worthy discussing. And perhaps Lucy should know too. And Susan? No, maybe she wouldn't like to know.

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_Britton's Station!_ A voice shouted. The train stopped in a cloud of steam, and everyone descended as the noise became twice louder than it was during the journey. Excitement and nervousness was much too high. Every student felt it.

- Peter, can you carry my suitcase? It's too heavy for me – being Lucy his favorite one, he agreed. And truth it was way too heavy, for everyone.

- What do you keep in here? Stones? – he asked, as Edmund looked somewhere else to dissimulate his chuckling.

Peter was about to claim Edmund and demand him not to laugh, but fate made justice for him before he did.

- Ed – called Susan -. Would you help me with my suitcase?

- Sure… I guess – so Edmund took his older sister's luggage, and couldn't even lift it from the ground. Peter chuckled in pleasant vengeance -. What the heck do you keep in here?

- Books – answered both girls at unison, as if it were the most normal thing in world. It was sort of.

Several teachers were waiting at the train platform, to lead the new arrivals to the bus that was going to take them to their new ten-month home. At the beginning, everyone divided in two groups: male and female. Typical, right? Of course, there were certain exceptions: two boys and two girls that shared Pevensie as their last name.

- This is going to be the most awkward school year ever – declared Susan, watching all the people walking toward the buses, divided as if some of them had the plague.

- You think so? – Lucy disagreed - I think it's going to be our best year ever.

- It better is, for it will be my last – said Peter.

So true. Peter was about to graduate from high school, and next year he would be attending alone a private university in London, with a scholarship thanks to professor Kirke. Susan whispered something about forgetting her brother's graduation, and then smiled solacing to him, like saying: don't you worry, I'll catch you up next year.

- Forget the long faces, we'll have plenty of things to do together this year, to make up for all the coming college years.

- Since when have you become so cheerful, Edmund? – Lucy asked.

- Since you made me think of Mr. Tumnus. He was cheerful.

- Wrong talking subject – reminded Susan smoothly. Not only because they have agreed to accept their lives in there, but because they were now surrounded by people who knew (and shouldn't know) anything about Narnia.

With a confusing feeling amidst sadness and frustration, they all silenced and quietly headed to their assigned seats on the bus, dragging the heaviest luggage ever behind them. But well, both Susan and Lucy, and even both Peter and Edmund had become big fans of the adventure and epic stories.

A suited man asked for their names and crossed them out at a paper list.

The bus was crowded with people, everybody sitting all together and uncomfortable, talking as loud as possible with the seat neighbor. It was a mess. And to make the mess worse, this strange black-haired girl arrived in her new uniform and tried to get on the bus without being registered at the list. The suited man stopped her.

- Name, please – he said in a monotone voice, like a recorded tape.

She didn't say anything, but fished out of her pocket an ID card, and showed it to the man. He stared at it almost afraid, as if it were explosive. Then he scanned the list to see if such a name could be written there. It was.

- Why are you here?

- I live here – now it was this girl's turn to speak in a cold and monotone voice.

- And how long have you been living here?

- Long enough to speak english perfectly. I even have my british accent. Would you _please_ let me through?

The suited man wrote something on the list and moved aside so Arabelle could get on the bus. Nobody seemed to have noticed the odd scene, but Peter had recognized the girl who climbed on the bus carrying a big baggage and a violin case. And he suddenly shared Susan's feeling that this would be an awkward year.

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><p><em><strong>Note (again):<strong>_ Damn… I have no note prepared this time. Well, I promise to try and lift my spirits so I can write more and therefore you can read more. For now, this is all I have.

About the Kuroshitsuji fics, I still love yaoi/slash, but right now I'm trapped in my obsession with Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell (Game of Thrones, just LOVE them) and my other obsession with some epic "twins" of my own.

_Write a review if you liked._


	3. School is another war

**"Betrayal may be a family thing".**

By Sinattea.  
>.<p>

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_**Disclaimer:**_ I adore Narnia, but I don't own it. So let's thank C. S. Lewis for writing the books and giving us such a lovely scenery for a fanfic.

_**Summary:**_ How far can a Pevensie go, just to see Narnia again?

Today's chapter focuses on Edmund and Peter… sort of…

_**Note:**_ Hello again, I'm still alive, trying to keep myself that way… I have not much to say today, so I only wish you all guys are having a good time and feel like reading and reviewing, I'll thank you endlessly if you do so.

This is a long chapter, but I promise you'll like it. Edmund is just so… gosh, I love Edmund as well.

Read, enjoy, review!

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Chapter 3: School is another war.**

**.**

Peter and Edmund started a race since the stairs, heading desperately to the last floor of Britton's dorm-rooms building, hardly catching their breaths. "I have to win, I have to beat" each one said inside his mind. The room numbers passed by as mere shadows, for they only cared about one number: 313. Finally one door appeared as the end of the race and the answer to their questions. Somehow, Edmund managed to outrun Peter by shoving him a little bit with his elbow and reached the door first. The black-haired boy opened it.

- I won! – he shouted. Peter stood by his side, as breathless as him, and looked inside.

- You mean _I_ won – he corrected - Who cares about a race? I won _the_ bet: one whole room for my own.

- What? – Edmund had missed that tiny detail.

So true, Peter had being assigned one room and no roommate, unlike Edmund, Lucy and Susan, who would have to share. Perhaps the reason could be that he was a last year student, and because of the war, many of the oldest students haven't returned.

- Well, you are definitely lucky. Besides, you have the last room in the hallway, means you have an extra window.

- Means I'll have extra rain, and extra cold – joked Peter, and Edmund declared himself as the luckiest one then -. I'll unpack later. Let's go help the girls with their mountains of books.

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Lucy was the first one to find her new bedroom. Susan accompanied her, and immediately started to unpack, putting everything in strict order.

- You know I'll have a mess for bedroom in a week, don't you? – joked Lucy.

- Yes, but still, I can hope you didn't spend that much of time with Edmund.

And Susan kept going with her cleaning and ordering routine, while the youngest chuckled. Then Lucy ran to the window and opened it, leaning forward to look outside and have a glimpse of the school's gardens. There they were: green and peaceful, full of flowers and ancient trees, surrounded by benches and fountains for the students to sit and relax. The building was great. It was beautiful, more beautiful than the last school she and Susan had studied at.

A funny voice interrupted Lucy's serene thoughts.

- Who are you and why are you here? You look way too _old_ to be my roommate.

The new arrival was obviously Lucy's new roommate, and she was addressing Susan in the way that only a rich and stubborn girl would use. The older Pevensie girl stared at her in astonishment and anger. Rapidly, to avoid Susan's dignity to commit some foolishness, Lucy stepped forward and saluted the girl.

- I am your roommate. Lucy Pevensie is my name – she said, trying to smile, but the other girl's face was so sour that it was hard to do so.

- Oh, I understand. Well, let's establish some rules from now on. I shall not mess with your possessions as you shall not mess up with mine. Each one of us has one half of this bedroom, I expect you to respect that.

- Of course – answered Lucy rapidly.

- Well, I have nothing else to say. Would you like to add some rules? – Lucy moved her head in negation - Perfect, we're done. By the way, I'm Elise Foley.

And she said no more, she simply walked to her bed and started to unpack slowly and ceremoniously. Susan was absolutely mad at the Foley girl; how dared she to address like that to her, who had once been a queen?

- I have one rule to suggest – she said, the Foley girl turned around and looked at her with wide-opened eyes -, about visits. I am her sister, so I recommend you to get used to my presence. But don't worry, I'll stay within the allowed limits. Come Lu, let's find my room.

Trying to decide whether to laugh or not, Lucy followed Susan, happily leaving Elise Foley far behind.

.

Once they were in Susan's bedroom (second floor, room 204), everything started to feel better. Britton's College seemed less cold and dark by the minute, until it was finally becoming warm and comfortable. Susan's room was pretty comfortable, kind of hidden near the stairs, perfect for private talks about really private subjects.

- I bet here you will have nice dreams. Maybe you'll dream of Narnia – whispered Lucy.

- Please, Lucy, don't. You know I would rather omit the subject.

- And why would you do so? Susan, Narnia was our life!

- But now our life must be England. Narnians moved on without us, so we can – she replied, upset, and began to brush her hair with her fingers.

Lucy caught her breath ready to give her an answer, a very long and serious answer, when a girl broke in through the door.

- Oh! – she gulped, a little bit confused - I'm sorry, must have mistaken the room number – she added when saw the room was already taken, and left with her luggage.

But a couple of seconds later she returned.

- No, wait, this is the number: 2, 0, 4.

- Yes, it is – confirmed Susan.

- Then I guess you are my roommate…

- Arabelle! – exclaimed Lucy, who had recognized the new arrival, and stepped forward - It's nice to see you again. Looks like you are sharing bedroom with my sister. This is Susan.

- Hello, Lucy – said Arabelle, then turned to face Susan -. So you are the long lost sister.

- Not so lost – was Susan's reply, and unsympathetically shook hands with her.

For a second that seemed like an eternity they held hands and examined at each other, trying to discover if they would get along well or not.

Hurried steps sounded in the hallway, heading straight to the 204 room.

- Can you believe that jerk is around here? – Edmund's voice was clear to listen at - And with his whole gang just to make it worse…

- Don't talk to me about him – demanded Peter in an irritated panting tone of voice -, can't believe I didn't punch him in the face when I saw him.

- Yeah, he looked ready to punch you…

- Shut up! I can handle him – replied Peter -, it's not like we've never faced anyone worse. Just… let's get the girls, all right? Hey, Su! – called Peter, finally taking advantage down the hallway and beating Edmund in their so common improvised races - You won't believe what just happened on the dorm; and we had such a tough time finding this place…

Peter walked in as if it were his own room, and what a surprise he found when he tried to get through the door. He and Arabelle ended up stuck in the entrance, staring at each other in disbelief. Peter's mighty aura made him look elegant and handsome (*A/N: more than usual, if possible*). Arabelle blushed, her face shinning crimson red under her black hair. She suddenly felt overwhelmed.

- Violin girl – said Peter -. Arabelle, was it?

She stood paralyzed and mute.

- Allow me to introduce myself, and please do not run away this time – he chuckled, politely -. I am Peter Pevensie.

Then he did something unusual that surprised all of his siblings: he grabbed Arabelle's right hand, and leaned forward to kiss her fingers. That kind of salute was ordinary coin far away in their epic realm of Narnia, but no longer in England, and that's what made everybody feel astounded.

- Do you two already know each other? – asked Lucy.

- We met briefly in London, at the new candy store near the train station…

- The name is "Toffees & more" – Arabelle complained lowly.

- …And we discussed about music, right?

- I wouldn't call _that_ a discussion – mocked Arabelle, and removed her hand from Peter's grip.

- Then perhaps you would like to try a real discussion later.

Arabelle's bitter smile pretended to be a definite "no", but somehow she didn't get the wanted effect and her gesture was understood by everyone as a definite "maybe, we'll discuss it later". Then she left, running straight to the bathroom, just to make sure her face wasn't as red as warm she felt it.

Edmund was open-mouthed.

- What did just happen?

- Looks like Peter already knows my roommate – kind of explained Susan.

- She's your roommate? Her? – Peter hadn't quite understood that matter.

Susan nodded.

- That's real good luck – declared Lucy, walking toward her brothers and taking them by the hands, inviting them to enter. She sat aside Edmund, and for some reason began to comb his black hair -. Remember I told you I made a new friend?

- Who was like Mr. Tumnus? Yes, you did. Would you please lay off my hair, Lu? – replied Edmund, irritated, but still somehow tender.

- Sorry – Lucy removed her hands quickly -. Well, you just met my new friend. Arabelle and I talked a lot in the last wagon, during the journey here.

Peter stared at Lucy suspiciously, as if he believed that the girl was lying about Arabelle to make him feel upset. But Lucy would never do such a thing; Edmund could, since he was a little mischievous, but Lucy never.

Yet Peter was upset, because he wanted to know why Susan's roommate was aware of the Narnian music, he needed to know if there was any chance that someone else had some knowledge about the existence of Narnia. And he had to make sure it wouldn't be dangerous, for any of them.

.

.

Unfortunately, there was no time to think about magical lands and kingdoms from the past. Classes began two days after they arrived at Britton's College. Naturally, each one of the Pevensies attended different lessons, for all of them studied different school grades.

Peter started with British Literature, and Lucy with History (where everybody couldn't help but talk about the recently finished war, some of them with tears in their eyes). Edmund wasn't lucky at all and his first day's first class was Latin. Susan would have gladly switched places with him; she loved Latin, and it was still common to see her walking around carrying a Latin dictionary, like she used to do in professor Kirke's house. But she had to wait to finally prove her latin knowledge. She attended all of her other lessons with interest and a bit of resignation, it was hard to accept vacation time was completely over. And she discovered something: her roommate had the very same school schedule.

That's why Peter and Arabelle met during the recess. He went to the biology classroom, looking for Susan, and found instead the violin girl. She was heading to one of the gardens, lonely and silent, to read peacefully a book about… Peter couldn't read the title. So he decided to follow her, and try to have a little talk with her.

- Are you also looking for your sister Susan? – she asked him, when noticed his presence in the garden.

- Not really – said Peter, and sat in front of her, under a tree.

She wasn't reading a book, she was writing melodies in a notebook of music scores. Arabelle was so focused in her music that she began to hum one of the songs, trying to figure out if she was writing the notes properly…

…Peter recognized the song: _"The Wardrobe"_, a song one of the dryads had composed for them as kings, to commemorate their uncommon origins. And he felt so great remembering those times he started singing alongside Arabelle.

She shut abruptly, astounded, and left Peter singing alone. He silenced a couple seconds later.

- W-why were you singing? Is not… possible that you know this song – she stuttered.

- Why? Is it another one of your never-seen-before compositions? – he managed to control his tone of voice so it didn't sound like mocking.

- Well… yeah. How did you know what came after?

- I guess I have an excellent musical instinct.

This time was Arabelle's turn to work hard and dissimulate a mocking smile. Her eyes sparkled almost tenderly. Then she muttered something that sounded pretty weird to Peter's ears:_ Kleine Lügnerin_, but before he could ask her to repeat whatever she'd said, she added.

- Let me see your hands.

- What?

- Your hands, let me see them – she repeated.

- No. Why do you want to…?

- Come on, you are supposed to be the older brother, have some courage. Lucy would say yes without hesitate – she laughed, and grabbed Peter's hands amongst hers. He bit his tongue for not to give a rude reply.

She examined the blonde guy's hands carefully, his fingers, the size of his palm and god knows what else. Peter did nothing, though he was freaked out and intrigued the most.

- Well, they're certainly skillful, but they don't look like a musician's – Arabelle stated.

Peter took a couple of seconds to examine his hands himself. Whatever Arabelle saw, he didn't. Yet he discovered something: she had a keen instinct, and where could you develop such ability but in Narnia?

- Skillful in what way? – Peter felt curious, what else could this girl see?

- I don't know. You tell me.

Skillful handling swords and shields and arrows, every kind of weapon. Skillful riding horses, heading an entire armor to victory. Skillful using his fists in survival fights against usurper kings. Skillful writing diplomatic letters to negotiate with foreign governments.

Peter was skillful in many ways, but he could never tell them out loud. They had to be kept secret.

He kept quiet for so long that Arabelle stood up and grabbed her scores.

- Well, lovely conversation, but I have to go now. I'll meet your sister at the library – said Arabelle, kind of proud.

- Susan?

- Lucy – she specified, speaking way too hasty -. _Bis dann!_

So she left as fast as she could, almost as if she were running away. Nevertheless, that was the stepping stone to begin something similar to friendship; many similar encounters had place in that garden in the followings days.

.

.

Next day, studies became harder, and now school officially started with homework and essays. Edmund felt like kicking his math teacher when he wrote forty complicated equations to solve in only one hour, thank god he wasn't bad at math. Without knowing how, he solved twenty nine equations before the class finished, more than all his classmates, and the professor was so impressed with his correct results that forgave him the other operations and that day's homework. Edmund couldn't believe his luck; his math teacher was absolutely cool.

However, as usual in this world, every time something goes right, something else must go wrong, to keep the balance, and Edmund also had a bad experience.

This bad experience had a name: Nathan Halloway; and unfortunately, also had a group of friends that were absolutely giant, aggressive and rude. Yes, he was the guy Peter and Edmund had been talking about before entering Susan's room the first day. This guy was in Edmund's classes, despite the fact that he was Peter's age, and he was insufferable. The Pevensies remembered him from a fight at the train station, two years ago: he was the guy who bumped Peter and then tried to make him apologize. This Nathan guy had dropped out school and enlisted in the army about a year ago, and even when he never went to the battle field he felt as the eight wonder from modern world.

So, obviously, Nathan and his group of friends were the school's bullies, and if there was something they hated, that was anything related with the Pevensies, who had once humiliated them in public (two against five and yet they were about to win? Unforgivable!).

The chance to get revenge didn't seem to come soon enough.

- Well, well – said Nathan in an irritating tone of voice -. Looks like we have our very own fucking nerd in here, right Pevensie? – but Edmund bit his tongue and didn't answer, so Nathan tried another strategy - How's your brother? Still wounded after I kicked his fucking face? I think he's afraid of me, we've met at the hallways and he never dares to wrestle me. As neither do you.

Edmund's fighting impulse became as unstoppable as it was at the train station in the past. Good that, after his experiences in Narnia, he had learned how to control himself.

- He's about to finish high school. Unlike others.

- Are you referring to me? – Nathan's cheeks had turned red.

Edmund limited to smile sarcastically, and then he simply walked away.

.

This scene repeated day after day during a long time, but Edmund's patience disappeared three weeks later, when Nathan said something about Susan being a slut. That was it. Edmund turned around, pale because of the anger, jumped upon him and hit him in the face. "You jerk!" he shouted, and they started a fight. Naturally Edmund was winning, being a brave king and warrior meant he had all the experience on his side, and he gave Nathan Halloway a black eye after a couple beats. But Nathan had his friends, and soon enough everything became a chaos in the middle of the hallway, with lots of students around screaming "Fight! Fight!".

Nobody moved a single finger to stop the wrestle, quite the opposite. Now Edmund had a bleeding nose, but he was doing such a nice job: three black eyes, a bleeding mouth, an almost broken nose, and there was blood in his fists (his or theirs? Who cares? He was doing such a nice job!).

If Lucy hadn't walked nearby and called a teacher, only heaven knows how everything would have ended.

- Ed! Are you all right? – she asked concerned once they were in the nursery.

Edmund had a bag of ice on his nose. He was bleeding no longer.

- Why did you have to call a teacher? Now I'm going to detention! – he complained.

- Why did you have to start a fight? One against five is foolish.

- They started, I had to hit back.

- Now you sound just like Peter – Lucy crossed her arms, and half-smiled, trying to make her brother feel better. His nose was swelled up -. And Susan and I have had a hard time since school began trying to stop him from running into fights. He seems ready to punch everyone who stares for too long.

- Well, I understand Peter perfectly. This Halloway guy is impossible to put up with!

- Are you talking about Nathan Halloway? – Lucy was kind of surprised - That's a funny thing. Do you know he has a crush on Susan and she refused to date him? That must explain why he's so mad at us.

- He's also the guy who bumped Peter at the train station, remember?

- You mean… right before we were called to help Caspian?

The nurse walked in the room, and they both kept quiet, simply exchanging timid looks while Edmund received some ointments and bandages for his wounded nose. He felt silly, and Lucy's gleaming eyes confirmed that he looked indeed ridiculous.

- You don't look that bad – tried to solace Lucy when they left the nursery.

- Liar, you were smiling inside there.

Edmund was hiding his bandaged nose with both hands, doing an effort to dissimulate, but he only managed to be more obvious. A waste of time, honestly, for all the entire school was already aware of the conflict between the Halloway and the Pevensie boys.

- So it's true! – exclaimed a really upset Susan when she saw Edmund and Lucy in the hallway. She had tried to enter the infirmary, but the nurse didn't let her, and that only made Susan's mood worse - You meddled in a fight!

- Let him be, Su – defended Lucy -. He's already having a bad day.

- And it'll get worse. Thanks to you Edmund now the Pevensie name figures in every teacher's black list – she crossed her arms -, and every student's gossip.

- It was going to happen sooner or later – he said, shameless.

- Too soon for my taste, we haven't been here for a month and you're already being so reckless – would Susan's bitter face ever disappear? -. Weren't we going to keep low profiles and high grades?

- I did it for you! – shouted Edmund, he didn't understand why his sister had to be so incomprehensive to him - He insulted you, and they laughed! I wasn't going to let them be after that.

Susan's face changed after that, it softened a bit, and she looked at her little brother with something very similar to tenderness, mixed with a bit of sadness.

- Very noble from you, Ed. But I don't need you to defend me like _this_. We're in England, not… there. We use _words_, not _swords_. Please remember it.

In that very second, Edmund understood that he would have to put up with a lot of bitter faces for the rest of the week.

.

However, the face of Edmund's roommate, this short geeky guy, wasn't bitter at all. Quite the opposite, he spent five minutes watching Edmund and his bandaged nose in the biggest admiration.

- Halloway broke my glasses last tuesday – he muttered -. I'm glad to know someone broke his nose.

- Almost broke – Edmund specified -. But his black eye is definite.

The boy laughed, and Edmund joined him. They didn't notice that the bedroom's door was open, and someone was leaning against it while watching them laugh. Peter knocked three times and then walked in.

- You are getting detention and you laugh about it. Must have been a very good fight – he said to Edmund.

- Excellent fight.

- Next time I'll be with you, and we'll both show to them who writes the rules over here – Peter smiled.

- The problem is that we usually write them with swords in our hands, right? – whispered Ed, so low his roommate didn't listen - Susan is so mad at me.

- She'll forget it soon. You did the right thing, now Halloway won't mess up with her.

They talked for almost an hour, Edmund describing the fight with all the details, and Peter deciding whether to thank him for defending their family or to scold him for being such an honorable fool.

But deep inside, Peter was frustrated. So many times he had wished to break Halloway's nose, and he had been held back brutally. By his sisters, by his classmates, by every single professor… And now Edmund, his little brother, happened to have taken his golden chance.

Yes, that caused Peter to feel incredibly frustrated.

.

.

An hour later Peter was heading to the 204 room, determined to speak with Susan and solve her problems with Edmund once and for all. The door was closed, and Peter had to wait five frustrating minutes before it opened. Arabelle difficulty smiled to him.

- Peter – she mumbled, then closed the door again. Before Peter could get upset and bump the door to break in, Arabelle got out and closed behind her-. You are here to talk to your sister, but she doesn't want to talk.

- What are you talking about? We are siblings and I'm speaking to her whenever I want to!

- Peter, wait! She needs to be alone – Arabelle grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back -. Besides, why are you so upset? You aren't this aggressive, are you?

Peter finally realized he was acting oddly wrong, so he took a time to breathe and have his temperament under control. He rested on the wall, looking to nowhere with reflexive eyes. He was tired, so tired.

- Sorry, I just… Edmund asked me to speak with Susan and sort everything out.

- That will have to wait. She wants to be left alone.

- Even by you?

- Especially by me! – Arabelle exclaimed -. We're roommates, but that doesn't make us best friends. We hardly speak to each other. Your sister doesn't like me very much, and well, I haven't done anything to be liked for. Perhaps Lucy could talk to her… once she's done crying.

- Is Susan crying? – Peter's voice sound a little bit high pitched because of the astonishment. Susan was sensitive, but she wasn't use to cry.

- It seems like she _remembered_ something sad. Real, real sad – Peter watched the bedroom's door, pretending to see his sister behind it… weeping.

A million ideas exploded inside Peter's head, going and coming around again and again and again, like crazy birds. He could think of many reasons why Susan would cry for, but any of them seemed to be convincing enough. He got lost inside his mind, and Arabelle felt brutally ignored; that was something she didn't like at all, so she spoke.

- You can see her tomorrow. I mean, Charles Parker came like ten minutes ago and that only made things worse…

- Parker? – Peter was surprised - My classmate Parker? – in that very second Arabelle understood she just did something of the utmost stupidity. Don't wonder why Susan didn't like her very much…

- Maybe it'd be a good idea to change the topic – she half-smiled -. So, how's Edmund? I heard he had a bleeding nose.

- You _heard_? – Peter decided to follow the abrupt change of topic.

- The whole school is talking about your brother, Peter – the half-smile turned into a complete one -. And if I have to be honest… Lucy told me, we met half an hour ago in the library. But now you tell me: how's your brother?

- He's got bandages all over the face. And he speaks funny – Peter couldn't help but smirk and then chuckle.

- See? You're smiling now! Do you think he'll get upset if I tell him he looks like a mummy?

Now it was impossible to contain: they had a good and loud laugh. Imagining how definitely furious Edmund would be if he were told that, was comical. But they exhausted the laugh and once they stopped, Arabelle sighed. She started playing with her silver necklace, something, Peter had noticed, she did very often when she was nervous.

- So… How's school going? – the black-haired girl asked, a little shy -. Any interesting facts?

- Well… I didn't remember that I was so good at History, Literature and…

- You say it as if you hadn't attended school in years – interrupted Arabelle, but she remarked a good point. Peter caught a glimpse of double meaning in her words.

- Of course: the years of the war.

- I mean "years" like in "decades" – her gray eyes suddenly turned deep, ageless, as if she knew an awful lot more than she should.

- That's impossible – replied Peter, as calmed as you can be when someone is apparently trying to discover your top secret -. In such a case I'd be older, and trust me, I don't look like a thirty year-old man.

- Perhaps you know how to grow younger… – Peter froze at the very second she pronounced the words, staring at Arabelle in disbelief. Air got thicker, and breathing became harder to accomplish - Just kidding – added Arabelle before Peter's stupefied reaction, and she faked a smile. She was terrible faking smiles, though, and Peter also noticed that. Arabelle finally realized she had screwed everything up -. And I'm just making you feel more stressed by the minute, right? Fool of me.

She leaned her head, watching her shoes, completely repented. She seemed to be ready to blurt an apology at any second. Somehow Peter felt… merciful.

- Do you want to make it up? – he asked, with a charming yet mischievous smile.

- Yes, please.

Peter's smile grew wider, all over his face.

- Go get your violin.

Arabelle almost sighed in total absolute relief. She thought that Peter would request the truth from her, and truth was her top secret. But there was an inconvenient with Peter's demand: the violin was in the bedroom, with a Susan who wanted to be left all alone for the moment. What to be done?

- _Nein_… I have a better idea – Arabelle whispered, and grabbed Peter by the hands.

She led Peter through lonely hallways and empty classrooms until they reached a secret door, hidden behind and ancient and decorative medieval armor. For a second Peter doubted of her, on one side his instinct of survival told him not to trust too much in someone he had met only a month ago, on the other he remembered how his intuition was right most of the times, just like when he got closer to the beaver in Narnia. And this time his narnian intuition told him to trust, so he did.

They entered through the secret door into an old chapel, full of dust and spider webs. Arabelle walked across the chapel as if she were used to it and already knew the way, which she actually did. She climbed some stairs and reached the choir, followed by Peter. He was a little bit anxious, he wasn't very fond of abandoned places after watching Cair Paravel in solitary ruins.

- Can you help me with this? – Arabelle called; Peter had to keep his memoirs for later.

There was this huge and heavy velvet blanket on the wall; Arabelle was tugging of it, but she couldn't pull it down. Peter could, and the blanket fell in the middle of a dust cloud that reminded a sand storm in a distant desert. Needless to say they coughed for a while.

- _Danke_ – Arabelle's voice sounded a little opaque after all the coughing.

Peter was about to complain and demand to know what the heck were they doing there, when he understood the reason. Behind the dusty blanket hid a giant piano.

- It's out of tune, but still works.

Peter smiled while Arabelle sat in front of the piano and pressed some keys which sounded beautiful, even when some of them were really out of tune.

- So, what melody do you want to listen?

- The one you were playing at "Toffees & more". Play that Na…nice Lullaby.

.

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.

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* * *

><p><em><strong>Note (again):<strong>_Can anyone guess which language is it that Arabelle occasionally uses? Because that will give a clue to those who feel curious about her. :-)

As for Edmund… I love watching him fight, I just do. My favorite scenes in the movies are those when the boys are fighting (I find particularly favorite and hot the fighting scene at the train station and the fights between Peter and Caspian, every time they're about to kill each other I drool, XP).

Poor Peter, being restrained all the time… But he has to behave the best, doesn't he? He's the older one and he must serve as example for his siblings. That must be quite… frustrating, right? I don't have any siblings but I can imagine…

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And I want to make something clear, about my writing-style. I have been asked several times why I don't use quotation marks when it comes to dialogues, well, the answer is pretty simple: I am a spanish native speaker, and the writing format for spanish language uses the – (how do you call it? Dash, hyphen? My dictionary confuses me) to signalize the beginning and pauses for description in a dialogue. Works similar to quotation marks, except that we don't add it at the end of the dialogue. Hope this helps to understand better my writing.

I'm too used to this format, so I don't think I can change it. Besides, I get lost when it comes to quotation marks, makes me hard to follow the dialogues when I'm reading other fics.

Anyway, thanks for reading… and thanks twice for reviewing!

.

**_Write a review if you liked and want to support a fellow writer._**


	4. Swastika

**"Betrayal may be a family thing".**

By Sinattea.

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_**Disclaimer:**_ I adore Narnia, but I don't own it. So let's thank C. S. Lewis for writing the books and giving us such a lovely scenery for a fanfic.

_**Summary:**_ How far can a Pevensie go, just to see Narnia again?

Today's chapter focuses on Peter and my OC. Yay!

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_**Note:**_ Yeahp, still alive. Yeahp, still writing. Yeahp, still shipping. Nope, not very inspired right now, damn my lazy muse… But doing the best, yet. Original stories are just consuming me. Let's hope they give me a break for fics.

Read, enjoy, REVIEW! (What can I say? I'm addicted to reviews)

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Chapter 4: Swastika.**

**.**

Arabelle played for almost an hour, and most of the songs were narnian.

- You play beautifully – admitted Peter -. Where did you learn? – the boy felt suspicious that some fauns or dryads should have been involved in Arabelle's learning process.

- My father taught me when I was a child – she said, softly -. He was a musician, an orchestra director…

- I thought your father was the man from "Toffees & more". You have never mentioned him before.

- I don't talk about my family – blurted Arabelle, in a tone of voice that pretended to put an end to discussion. But Peter is a king, he's not used to do as he is told.

- Why don't we make a deal? Looks like you have things you'd like to say, so do I…

- To tell you my secrets I would have to blindly trust you first. That would take years. And I mean "years" like in "decades".

- That's what this deal's for – cleared Peter up -. I'll tell you a secret of mine, and then you'll tell me one of yours. That should be enough to trust each other, right?

- Maybe – said Arabelle, removing her hands from the piano.

Peter breathed deeply, as if facing an inner fight. There should be an easier way to make Arabelle confess the true narnian nature of the music she performed than telling her he was a king of Narnia. All right, there we go…

- I don't know anything about music – confessed Peter abruptly -. I lied to speak with you, for I'm absolutely sure I've heard all those melodies before.

Arabelle was sort of impressed, so she smiled.

- Nice one. I guess now I must say something… – Peter invited her to speak with a gesture of his hand -. The man from "Toffees & more" is my uncle; he has taken care of me since my parents died.

- I'm sorry…

- It's all right… – "Arabelle! You can't sincere yourself to him! _Think_ of it, you fool! If you tell him you'll have to tell Lucy, and then Edmund and then Susan… and you won't be forgiven… Lie!" - …I was leaving Scotland anyway.

- Are you from Scotland? – asked Peter skeptically - Your uncle's accent was supposed to be scottish?

- Well… He comes from Denmark – added Arabelle just in time to disguise her lie.

Peter seemed to ignore her lie, because right after that he confessed himself as an excellent horse rider. They spent a while talking, until Peter decided it was time for him to leave, so he went back to his bedroom as Arabelle stayed behind drumming her forehead against the piano for her foolishness: "_Du Trottel! Schottland?_". Definitely wasn't one of her best lies.

.

.

It is necessary to mention that during those first weeks all the professors had a pretty weird behavior before they registered the assistances and absences at the beginning of the classes. They read the student's lists in silent, gasped in disbelief, and delayed a couple of minutes to recover. Then pronounced every student's name to take list, as usual. But they said only the _names_, never mentioned one single surname.

Everybody thought it was weird, but they might have a good reason. That's the way it worked during the first month.

.

The answer came the day the professor of History left Britton's because of an emotional crisis: he received a letter from the army telling him that his son was officially lost in action. So he was replaced by a new teacher. Professor Smith was this young and rough man, incredibly handsome despite the war scar he had across his left eye.

- And ya wanna know why? – he said, fixing his eyes in his class – 'Cause I fought in the war. Went to France's border limits and killed a thousand fucking nazis. They eliminated almost the whole regiment… with bombs, but I and another five soldiers survived and shot those goddamned nazis while they were asleep. Stupid germans, they thought they had the war in their pockets…

- So… you are a war hero? – asked a boy.

- Yeah. Decorated with Medal of Honor, highest american insignia.

- You come from the USA?

- Yeah, american to the very last drop of this military blood.

An excited gasping spread amongst the classroom. Professor Smith seemed quite self-satisfied. He sat on the teacher's desk, lifted his legs and rested his feet (with military boots) on the table. Then he grabbed the list and started calling complete names, worriless.

- Pevensie, Susan?

- Present – she said, without raising her eyes from the history book.

He kept pronouncing names aloud. And suddenly he stopped, observing the list as if he were watching a very complicated map with the nazi advance. He sort of was…

And he burst in laughing. Mean, sarcastic laughing.

- Auster… – he laughed even louder -. Austerlitz, Arabelle! – he shouted, overwhelmed by uncontainable rage.

Not only Susan, everybody lifted their eyes from the books, and looked around in confusion and fear. They whispered, and moaned and complained. Could she be? Austerlitz was a german name; and England has suffered a lot because of the german war.

- Arabelle Austerlitz! – he repeated, louder - Which one of you has this fucking german name?

- I do – said a cold and feminine voice.

Susan stared back, and saw her roommate (and Lucy's friend and Peter's friend) stand up with her chin up high, her black hair glowing darker and her gray eyes glowing colder.

- I am Arabelle Austerlitz – she confirmed, and accent in her voice no one had ever heard before -. And you weren't supposed to say my name.

Professor Smith seemed disconcerted for a second, but immediately recovered composure.

- Are you german? – he muttered.

- Born and raised in Munich. Daughter to a german father and to a german mother. I've been living here five years, and if you ignored my last name as you were supposed to, you could have easily confused me with another british.

- I seriously doubt so, pretty little nazi.

- I would hardly use that word to describe myself. Can't you think of anything better?

The american teacher began to look threatening, and Arabelle seemed to be smaller by the second compared to him. Susan saw her gulp in regret, with trembling hands, and decided to interfere. Nobody deserved such a humiliation.

- Is this somehow relevant in our History class? – she asked, with the proud tone of voice of a queen - According to the other professor's schedule we should be talking about the Roman culture and its influences in the modern world. Germany is still too recent to be considered as history.

Arabelle looked at Susan with gratitude written all over her face. It had been a gentle and noble gesture from the Pevensie girl to defend her.

- Great – mocked the professor -. Nazis ruined Europe and now they're gonna ruin this school. Sit down and keep the mouth shut.

Arabelle did so, not for obeying the professor, but because her legs were trembling so much she hardly could stay on her feet. She couldn't talk at all, there was a lump in her throat. But in the other hand, everybody else in the classroom seemed indisposed to keep quiet. Looks and words of hate surrounded Arabelle like an indomitable tide.

Her biggest fear had become true: part of her top secret had been painfully revealed.

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The worst came when the class finished. As soon as the bell rang everybody seemed ready to leave the classroom in a second. Arabelle was about to run straight to her bedroom, to hide or something, when professor Smith called her.

- Not so fast, _miss Auschwitz_ – he derided -, you got a ticket to detention. The rest of you may leave.

Arabelle froze in the door, while everybody walked by, bumping her sideways and whispering curses and coarsenesses to her. She felt like crying, but she wasn't going to in front of professor Smith, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Everybody was now gone, except Susan. She was still in her seat, pretending to order her schoolbag as an excuse.

- You may leave too, miss…

- Pevensie – said Susan, arrogant as only a queen can be. So true that she wasn't very fond of her roommate (they didn't talk much, and consequently, they didn't know each other), but she definitely didn't like this professor's bad manners.

- Whatever, I said you can get out of this classroom.

Susan slammed her History book closed, and headed to the door, where she walked by a terrified and ashamed Arabelle. They have been living together for a month, and Susan would have never expected she would see Arabelle so fragile and scared when she was so smart and resourceful with Lucy and Peter. But also she would have never imagined that Arabelle was german.

- Good luck – she whispered. Arabelle didn't answer.

Once Susan was gone, Arabelle had to face professor Smith.

- Detention, miss Auschwitz – he repeated, mischievously.

- That's not my… – she tried to complain, but her voice didn't want to come back.

- And ya wanna know why? – the answer was pretty obvious: because he hated germans -. Because you raised your voice and were disrespectful to me. And now you're gonna write some lines on the blackboard to me.

Arabelle was mute, she couldn't reply anything; she didn't dare to. It was happening again… It was all happening again…

- Now ya write… "Germany lost the war". A hundred times.

- What does it have to do with history? – she mumbled, and regretted it at the second.

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Susan waited outside the classroom, trying to spy on the conversation within. She couldn't hear much, only that professor Smith had said that the germans lost the war, then Arabelle replied something, and then… Had he hit her? That noise was definitely a smack.

All right, that was it. Susan was ready to interfere again when Arabelle sneaked out of the classroom and ran away. When the Pevensie girl looked inside the classroom with all of her discretion, she had a glimpse of professor Smith with a bleeding mouth.

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As Arabelle ran, there were tears in her eyes. Her ears rang in the oddest of ways: she could almost swear she heard a wolf's howl after her as she got across the school fast as lightning. She couldn't make it to her bedroom. Tears exploded in her eyes before she reached the stairs, and to avoid more humiliation, Arabelle went to the bathroom and locked herself in a cubicle, where nobody would see her. There she stayed for an hour, until her thoughts ceased to scream, her eyes to weep, and her memories to blame her. Her breathing was rough, as if she was sick, but at least she was crying no longer. She hated crying, made her feel pathetic.

But it was so sad: she had been so close. Everything was going fine, she didn't have many friends, but she didn't have enemies either. And now that was all gone. By that time probably the whole school already knew that there was a german girl within Britton's walls.

Arabelle sniffed.

There were voices down the corridor, coming towards the bathroom. She kept quiet.

- Are you sure she's in here? – asked an acute voice.

- Totally. She definitely hid in there.

Great. Now people were looking for her to tease her? Absolutely great. Sarcasm can be a really dangerous weapon once in a while.

- You should go talk to her.

The bathroom door opened. Arabelle lifted her shoes and rested them on the toilet, so no one could see her from outside the cubicles. A pair of black, shiny shoes walked slowly through the bathroom. And then some locks of red hair appeared under the door's cleft.

- Arabelle? Are you there? – the black shoes kept moving - It's me. It's…

- Lucy – Arabelle had stepped on the ground and opened the door. She stared at the youngest Pevensie in shame and something similar to anger.

Lucy felt surrounded by a sudden cold, her shoes cracked as if frozen, and the mirrors seemed to be frost-covered. She had a terrible reminiscence: a tall woman, in a white dress, with a freezing glare… Jadis was her name, wasn't it?

- Why are you here? – asked Arabelle, pulling Lucy back to reality. The red haired girl had some shivers, but she recovered composure -. I'm sure by now you've already heard it… You here to tell me how much you hate me?

- Why would I say such an awful thing? If you think so, then you don't know me.

- I've met a lot of people, and they always change when they find out the truth.

- Well, I'm different – said Lucy -. I don't care if you're german, Arabelle, you're my friend, and we've had a great time together.

Arabelle looked like crying again, but she simply sniffed. The bathroom was so cold.

- Even after the _wars_? You don't care I'm… _deutsch_?

- Fortunately my family survived the war. And it's not like _you_ grabbed the guns and fought against us…

Arabelle paralyzed, feeling so embarrassed that she was about to laugh in a very silly way. That was another lie…

Lucy noticed something was going wrong, and rapidly made it up.

- Even if you were a telmarine, believe me there's no reason why any of us would treat you any different…

- A _what_? – _Erwischt!_

Lucy froze, why did she have to mention the word "telmarine"? She was thinking of Caspian! God, what a mistake she'd made.

- Nothing, childish fancies. The point is that nothing's going to change. The only different thing is that now I know more about you.

Arabelle felt a little solaced and she held Lucy's hand in gratitude. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, maybe she could manage to keep her friends together. One of them was there, with her, and the other…

- Does Peter already know it? – suddenly she felt in panic, because now Peter knew that she had shamelessly lied to him. How would Peter take it? She didn't need to know him to foretell it would be a negative reaction.

Lucy shrugged meaning she didn't know. Probably they haven't seen each other in the whole day, due to their different school schedules. Arabelle would have to wait until the end of the day before facing Peter, but she already suspected that he would be incredibly upset because of her lies. Could that break the deal? Yes, it definitely would.

- I need to talk to Peter. I just can't believe it's happening again – the german girl whispered and leaned against the lavatories as she began to wash her face, she needed to refresh. Meanwhile, Lucy patted her back comfortingly.

- If it makes you feel any better – said Lucy -, your british accent is perfect, no one will notice it's you.

- We both know that's a lie. My classmates will sort out the confusions.

- But not Susan – Lucy added immediately -. She told me, but she won't mention it to anyone else. She's right outside, making sure nobody walks in.

- Quite _gentle_ from her – Arabelle stated.

- Yes… Su… she's gentle.

Arabelle grabbed a towel and cleaned her face dry. She noticed Lucy's nervousness, and that made her smiled, because it meant that the Pevensies were, indeed, hiding a secret.

- Come on – invited Lucy, trying to distract Arabelle's thoughts -. Let's find Peter.

That managed to erase every thought from her mind, leaving it completely empty.

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Chaos had taken over the entire school. When Peter left his classroom, two minutes were necessary for him to hear the news about the german student. A girl from the new History class, with black-raven hair, pale skin, and quiet manners, who was apparently shy.

The truth is that Peter didn't think of Arabelle immediately; she would have said it to him, after all they had a deal. It was Edmund who opened his eyes.

- Have you heard? – he asked his older brother - The whole school is all freaked out because of this german girl studying in here.

- So I heard. Who do you think it is?

They were walking fast through the corridors, but then Edmund suddenly stopped, and pulled Peter's arm for him to do the same.

- You're joking, right? You were supposed to be the first to know. You or Lucy.

- Why? – Peter was simply trying to fool Edmund. He knew it already, it wasn't so hard to unravel, but it was hard to believe.

- It's your friend! Susan's roommate. Her name is Arabelle Austerlitz, isn't it?

Peter glared at his brother, and began to walk again, faster than before. He knew from the beginning Arabelle had lied, but he didn't suspect the lie to be so cynical. Now he was raging. She lied to him! How dared she to lie to the High King of Narnia? Now Peter could never trust her: she didn't say a thing about her past in _this_ world, how would she ever confess herself about anything related to Narnia? But Peter was silly for thinking so. He would never be able to let all of his frustration out; leaving Narnia forever was so freaking painful… He didn't want to share those angry thoughts with Lucy, who was so sensitive and so fond of Aslan. He couldn't talk to Susan about it, because she wanted to forget but he wanted to remember. And he couldn't talk to Edmund about it: he was upset, Edmund was upset too… wouldn't that conversation end into pandemonium?

But there was something about Arabelle that made Peter feel like he could say those things to her. Something in her eyes told him that somehow Arabelle felt the same way he did, that she was also frustrated and pained for leaving something far behind, that she also dreamed of distant horizons…

And now, Peter understood that they would never trust each other.

He kept walking, faster, faster, bumping whoever dared to obstacle his way. Edmund followed him.

- Are you all right Pete?

- Perfectly…

- Listen, I know it's hard to believe and everything, but if she's really your friend you should go and stand up for her… Many people here lost family in the war, and I'm afraid they'll try to make her punishable for it… Peter? Peter!

But he was already too far down the hallway.

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Arabelle tried to speak to Peter during dinner, but he avoided her very successfully. Even Lucy was completely surprised by such a behavior, "Peter's not like that" she said to herself over and over again. And for the first time in a long time, she realized that Peter wasn't acting very much like himself in the last months, that something was upsetting him beyond any solace she could give him.

- Peter, we need to talk – said Arabelle when she finally managed to reach him.

- And what do you want to talk about?

- You are upset – confirmed Arabelle -. Why are you upset?

- You didn't tell me you're german, that should give you an idea. We were supposed to trust each other, right? And you lied!

- Peter, I couldn't tell you anything! I swear! It's not only my secret to tell, think of my uncle! The store would go straight to bankrupt if somebody found out about our origins.

- Damn it, Arabelle! I'm not angry with you for being german, I'm angry because you _lied_! And I wanted to trust you… I can't believe that I seriously thought of telling you about… – Peter shut. He was going to mention Narnia, but held himself in time.

- About what Peter? _What_? – Arabelle almost shouted - Do you also have a secret that does not belong only to you?

Peter froze, considering for the first time that Narnia wasn't only _his_ lost kingdom, it was the lost land of his brother and sisters too, even of his cousin. Perhaps he didn't have the right to share the secret with someone else, just like Arabelle. His anger appeased a little bit, yet he had to deal with some inner demons before responding the german girl.

- We'll discuss it later – he said, and then left.

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><p><em><strong>Note (again):<strong>_She is german! She is! A chocolate cookie to those who guessed it!

Do you want to know her story? Keep reading!

And no, I know anything about the USA, I'm mexican, I guess you figured that out. ^^ But I actually like Professor Smith, he is quite a figure, isn't he?

I'm not very inspired for notes right now, I just want to thank to those who read, thank and love those who review, and build a pure-gold monument to **MakingDayBreak**, who just made my day. THANKS SO MUCH, MDB!

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_Write a review if you want more Narnia movies._

_Write a review if you bow before lions (in the zoo, in statues, etc) and call them "Aslan"._


	5. In her words

**"Betrayal may be a family thing".**

By: Sinattea.

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_**Disclaimer:**_ I think is no longer necessary, we all know I didn't open the door to Narnia, I simply found it and crossed it, like we all did.

_**Summary:**_ How far can a Pevensie go, just to see Narnia again? Today's chapter is all about the girls, because they're great and have lots of things to say.

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_**Note:**_ I really needed to update something today, because I expect some reviews will come and lift my spirits. You see, tomorrow I start school again, after a meaningful pause, and I'm really nervous because... well, I'm not the social type. Let's hope I meet in real life people as wonderful as you, my dearest readers.

I really hope you like the chapter, I poured my heart in it. :-)

And a little warning: if you want to know why I use -hyphen- for dialogues, is because I'm mexican and this is the spanish writing format.

Now please Read, Enjoy, and Review!

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 5: In her words.**

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Next day was a blessed, blessed saturday. Peter woke up really late, and didn't even attend breakfast, for he didn't feel hungry. He had to think.

He sat on the windowsill, playing distractedly with his pocketknife… There was a time when he would go to the Owlwood and practice his sword-fighting to clear his mind, then ride down the Rush River and to the Stone Table. He would escape Cair Paravel for a couple days, and go back once his mind was done and peaceful. It wasn't easy to reign, but it was even harder to lead a regular life in England.

- I wish I had never left – he found himself muttering.

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At evening, Lucy left her place inside Susan's bedroom and on Arabelle's bed (the three of them had been chatting, for Susan was being extremely nice and comprehensive to Arabelle because of this nationality matter), and headed straight to Peter's room. "I'll talk to him" she promised to her friend, but she was starting to fear that perhaps Peter wouldn't feel like talking, since they haven't spoken about serious matters for a long time. Lucy tried to solace herself reminding that she was Peter's favorite one, but things had changed so much in such a short time… No, wait! Short? They lived fifteen years in Narnia, they were older than everyone would think. They had lived a long, long time; experienced a lot of things… and an awful lot of changes.

Yes, that was it. Peter had been acting oddly for over a year; the problems had started after he and Susan were told about Lucy and Edmund's last journey to Narnia, aboard the Dawn Treader with Caspian. They were deadly homesick for weeks, but once they decided to move on, everything had never been the same: they all were different, not precisely for good.

Narnia, Narnia… Lucy admitted for the first time in months that she terribly missed it; her precious magic land, and her so beloved Great Lion…

- Then I should appeal to it – she whispered to herself -, appeal to our feelings upon Narnia to finally talk to him, like we used to do over there.

Once her nerves diminished and her hands stopped to unexplainably tremble, Lucy knocked on the door of her brother's room. Thanking god that Peter had his own room and they wouldn't have to deal with any annoying roommate, Lucy waited.

- Leave alone… nobody home – came a whisper.

- Very funny, Peter – said Lucy, a little bit upset -. It's me, let me in, please.

- Sorry, Lucy. I'm not in the mood for anything.

- Well, you better be in the mood for me. Open up, Pete – nothing. Lucy frowned, when a great idea popped into her head -. Queen Lucy the Valiant commands you to!

Half a second happened and the door was already open. Peter received Lucy with a tired face and wearing still his pajama.

- Don't you say that – he mumbled.

- I know I can be heard, but right now I don't care.

- No, not because of that. I am the _High King_, Lu, you cannot command me.

At least that was a good sign, Peter's slight smile. Lucy entered the bedroom, and almost couldn't believe when she saw that everything was in perfect order, as if it were Susan's bedroom and not Peter's.

- Oh, I see you cleaned.

- Had nothing else to do – he mumbled.

- Yeah, I can tell…

Peter lied down on his bed, and covered his eyes with his forearm. Yes, he looked so exhausted, more than Lucy had ever seen him.

- Did you sleep at all? – she asked. Peter kind of shrugged - Oh, Pete, should I be worried?

- About what?

- You…, Arabelle, everything. World's spinning too fast these days, you know?

- Arabelle sent you here to intercede for her?

- I came by myself – replied the girl in an offended tone of voice -, but she did ask me to intercede after I'm done with what I have to tell you.

Peter opened his eyes and stared at his sister, then sat on the edge of the bed and invited her to do the same. Lucy took seat aside him, and hugged him strongly. Peter hugged her too.

- What is it Pete? What is it that makes you feel so sad? Because I feel you're upset, by many things, and you haven't been the same lately. You are irritable and it's like you're always ready to start a fight. It's like this since we entered this school…

- I'm afraid it's been like this since before…

- Since we left Narnia forever – she dared to say.

Peter let Lucy go, turning away from her, but she didn't need to see his face to feel his pain. How long had Peter been looking away? Probably a long time; Lucy felt guilty for not noticing before. Perhaps things would be different if she had, or perhaps she was only trying to fool herself.

- Don't you miss it Lucy? Narnia, I mean…

- Of course I do! More and more by the time, but it's not worthy to spoil our future lives in here thinking of a past that will not come back. That's what Susan's says.

- Well, this is what _I_ say – exclaimed Peter as he stood up in rage, moving too fast and too tense -: I would do _anything_ to go back to Narnia!

There was something just threatening about Peter's tone of voice the moment he spoke those words, as if he really meant "anything": whatever promise, whatever mistake, whatever crime… No matter the price… or the sacrifice.

Lucy sort of shivered.

- I've been thinking about it more and more, Lu – Peter kept going, his voice a little appeased -; I don't think I can accept it. There is no way England will ever make me feel complete, not after Narnia…

- Oh, Peter – cried Lucy, and hugged him with more strength, burying her face in his chest -. Is your heart still lost in the Shuddering Woods? …Do you remember when we used to camp over there? The fauns dancing around the fire, the nymphs singing all the night?

- I remember every tiny little detail of our lives in there… I just had never realized how much they mean to me.

Lucy began to sob and soon enough her eyes turned all teary. Peter's eyes turned watery as well, but he didn't express his sadness further, that would only make Lucy feel worse, and he didn't want that. He loved Lucy, cared for her, she was his favorite sister.

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After they both felt less melancholic and the knot in their throats gave in, Lucy remembered that she had promised Arabelle to speak in her favor, after all they had become very close friends (and she knew something about Arabelle that the german girl didn't want to recognize herself). Peter seemed now calmed enough to deal with the subject, so Lucy sniffed, cleaned her throat and spoke.

- I wish we didn't have to keep it secret, but Arabelle says some secrets must be kept.

- I knew you were going to mention her, sooner or later – there was a bit of chuckling in Peter's voice, as if he considered it funny how desperately Arabelle was trying to regain his favor. The Pevensie youngest girl didn't like that, made it look as if her brother were cruel.

- Peter – Lucy recovered composure and sat all straight, looking proud and self confident -, you may haven't noticed, because men are so silly for this, but Arabelle is really fond of you, and she cares too much on what you think. She believes you hate her, and is hard for her.

- I don't hate her. I simply realized that I can't trust her – Peter replied, a little bit uncomfortable.

- Well, I trust her. And I understand perfectly why she keeps secrets. People can be very incomprehensive some times.

Peter rolled his eyes.

- True, but still… I'm not forgiving her, Lucy. Don't think I can.

- Don't be fool. Why not? You forgave Caspian.

Peter made a surprised face, stood up and walked in circles in front of the red-haired girl.

- And what does he have to do with all of this?

- That's how Susan explained herself about suddenly being so sympathetic to Arabelle.

- What do you both mean? – asked Peter, quite intrigued now that he knew even Susan, who didn't use to talk with Arabelle at all, was now comprehensive and everything.

- It's a very similar situation, just think about it. Telmarines invaded Narnia, they caused many unpleasant changes, and were hated because of that. Remember what Caspian mentioned? Narnians wanted to make him punishable for all the atrocities telmarines committed; it would have been valid, he was a telmarine, but he had a noble heart. There was a choice to make: whether to blame him or to forgive him. We helped him recover his throne, we even became friends… You forgave Caspian and you are not forgiving her?

- It has nothing to do with her nationality, Lucy. Am I clear? – the mimic of Peter's hands was terribly dramatic, something Lucy recognize from older times - It's different.

- Don't try to use your dignity or pride as excuses – she smiled -. It's not like you are completely honest to her. Have you told her about Narnia?

- Of course not! – Peter quit walking in circles.

- And she didn't tell you about Germany, you're even.

Then Peter understood that Lucy had no idea of what Arabelle's secret was all about.

- Have you ever heard her play music? – Peter asked, frowning.

- Only twice, some waltzes. Why?

Peter didn't answer, but judging by his face, Lucy knew she was going the right way. He looked as tired as when she walked in the room, but his eyes were appeased. The blonde guy sat again on the windowsill. There it was, his pocketknife, but this time Peter didn't grab it.

- All right – he said to his sister -. I'll give her an opportunity to explain herself, I'll listen. Let's see if she convinces me to fully trust her.

- She convinced me – joked Lucy, with a bright smile.

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Arabelle was walking alone through the hallways, which seemed incredibly empty during the weekends. She could even imagine that ghosts would rise from the dusty floor at any moment, and would hover around her, moaning, laughing… "Focus, Arabelle. _Konzentriere dich, konzentriere dich auf die Gegenwart_" her inner voice warned her.

She finally reached the principal's office, and knocked.

- Come in – a male voice said. Arabelle obeyed -. Two o'clock, quite punctual, miss.

- Did you want to see me sir?

At that moment, Arabelle started to play with her silver necklace.

- You are in troubles, miss. The whole school is falling apart due to you. Besides, I received a report from professor Smith containing the most intriguing news about your behavior – Arabelle looked down, intimidated -. Is it true you smacked him?

- Err… More like hit him, sir, but he _insulted_ me nasty ways…

- How dare you to…?

- Is not surprising for him to act like he's still fighting the war – she lifted her sight and stared at the principal -. My problem, sir, is that I don't want to fight any more wars, but everybody else out there is ready to remind me that wars are the most meaningful part of my past.

- And can you blame them for doing so? – asked the principal. Arabelle looked away.

- Can they blame me? Can they blame my people? This war caused us the very same pains you suffered! We also lost fathers and brothers and friends, we also feared the night a bomber would come and we'd never wake up. This war also changed my life, it _changed me_! Drastically and forever.

- You should have thought of that before following your mad führer.

- How dare you to judge the actions of us germans? – Arabelle sighed quite upset, yet she expected something like this. She would've been surprised if the principal didn't try to make her responsible for the crimes of the war -. We are quite different from what you all think, you know? We're not one of a kind. And you must remember, sir, that you are talking to one single german girl, and not to the whole country, and certainly not to its army.

Her words did manage to make the principal reconsider his.

- All right, sorry about that. But you are really showing the worst part of you, miss.

- I have tried my best to behave – Arabelle assured.

- That's not the impression you give me by hitting professor Smith.

- Stop using that tone of voice with me! – shouted Arabelle, she could feel the outburst flowing through her lips, but she didn't feel like stopping at that very second. This was it, the opportunity she'd been waiting for five years. She had a gift for words, and for the first time she felt capable of using it again, to justify her own actions, to make them forgivable even if they couldn't really be forgiven – All right, I may be different from all of them in the worst way ever, but I didn't _declare_ war to anyone! And I might have committed awful mistakes, but I didn't mean any of that to happen in the first place! We were boats trapped in an indomitable tide, what were we supposed to do? Oppose to her and face the same destiny her enemies suffered? We wanted to survive and…

- _Her_? – interrupted the principal, quite surprised.

- Mother Germany – answered Arabelle so fast it was suspicious. _Mist!_ She was mixing everything up again! It happened to her very often with every outburst. One thing was her true past, and a completely different one was the past she was supposed to have.

The principal seemed to understand Arabelle was feeling confused, and he somehow relaxed. He even invited her to take a seat, which she gladly did.

- Don't be this nervous – he asked -. I know is not your fault, miss. But you must understand how complicated your situation makes things for us. We'll receive many letters from parents that will want their children out of Britton's because you are here. Some other will ask for your expulsion. The first letter has already arrived with such a request.

- You can't expel me – she muttered -. I promised my uncle it wouldn't happen again.

- Well, then choose your words carefully, because I'm seriously thinking about it. This is the chance I'm giving you to make me change my mind.

- I'm not making you change your mind – Arabelle stated, and stood up as she began to walk around the room -. I now get that you're not judging me because of my own actions – which she didn't say but felt incredibly relieved about -, you're judging me by the prejudice of my nationality. I would have to make you understand the way I used to think before I left Germany in order to change your mind. I'd have to describe how impressing it was for a ten year old girl to behold the red flags, hypnotizing with their giant swastikas… I knew anything then… By making you understand that it's the only way you could put prejudice aside.

- Well, I'm listening – said the principal.

So Arabelle started to explain some of the things about her past. Her family, her studies; how she had been raised in Germany, how she learned about the nazi ideas at school. How she came to think, at the foolish age of nine, that the ideas of people such as the Führer were…innovative after crisis; or so she heard everyone say. She even used Plato's myth of the cave, to make things easier to explain. "Everything I saw was mere shadows – she said -, for a long time I was taught to see what my superiors wanted me to see". If only the principal knew that many times Arabelle wasn't even referring to Germany…

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Finally, it was time for lunch, and all of the students at Britton's headed from the dormitories to the dining room amidst an endless cloud of whispers and low laughter. Arabelle was still at the principal's office, trying to earn enough merits with her speech for not to be expelled. Peter and Lucy were still quiet and melancholic in the elder's bedroom, unwilling to face the real world in that very moment. Edmund had to go again to the infirmary, since by the time he woke up he found his pillow stained in blood (the good news, Halloway and one of his friends were also there, in worst conditions than Edmund, and the nurse had to keep them apart by attending the Pevensie boy in his own bedroom). So, when Susan went down to eat, she did it alone. Fortunately there was someone who wouldn't let her be on her own.

- Hello, Susan. You look pretty nice today – that was Charles's usual greeting, though most of times he would smile ashamed and turn away when Susan greeted back.

She liked him enough to blush at the comment instead of feeling annoyed.

- What an honor to count with your lovely presence. You missed breakfast – pointed out Charles -. What was it? The sheets were too comfortable?

- Not at all – replied Susan, who liked to keep a serious facet before Charles, so he developed interest in discovering the girl behind the academic polite appearance -, I was getting to know my roommate better.

- Oh, right, you share bedroom with that girl – Charles understood. They kept walking through the dining room, avoiding some students who carried stuffed plates -. Who'd had imagined she was german? She doesn't speak german-like at all.

- No, she doesn't. Lucy says she actually has a very interesting conversation. I still have to find out myself.

- Which reminds me of… I wonder: where are your brothers? They didn't let you come alone, did they? – he smiled - I'd be very worried to let my pretty sister wandering 'round the world on her own.

- You don't have a sister – said Susan.

- You're right, only two male cousins, both older than me. But, if I did have one, I'd be very protective to her.

- And are you this nice to all the girls or only those within your family? – Susan kind of lifted an eyebrow, though she wasn't used to that kind of flirting gestures, even when she had always been very popular amongst men.

- Only to the girls I do care for. Of course I try to be polite to all of them, never mind whether they are or not as beautiful and charming as someone I know – yes, in that very moment Charles' voice was definitely flirty. Susan blushed.

- If my brothers could hear you…

- Would they be jealous? 'Cause that's always a good sign.

- No – assured Susan with a fabulous smile -. They'd laugh in your face. You need a little bit less charm and a little bit more brain to flirt with me.

- Oh, I get it. I've heard Nathan Halloway could have used that advice.

Susan couldn't help but laugh. Gosh, she liked Charles, the way he spoke, his sense of humor, how fancy and politely he expressed himself. He was all charm and cleverness, and in the time they had known each other there had been no day when they got bored of talking, for he was also smart. To make things short, Charles Parker was everything Susan had always dreamed of intellectually, but there was also that other part about his physical that attracted her the most. The similarities between Caspian and Charles were notorious, even though Susan had done her best to concede them no thoughts. Sometimes she wondered if she would've come to have that kind of conversations (trivial but enjoyable conversations) with Caspian if they had not met at times of war.

- How's your brother by the way? – asked Charles after noting Susan was getting too deep into her thoughts.

- Edmund? He is… well, he…

- How clumsy of me! – exclaimed Charles -. You hear gossip about your brothers all the time, you must be getting tired of it. I want you to be comfortable, so let give us a chance to talk about ourselves this once. How you like that?

- Are you trying to tell me you want to know me better? – Susan crossed her arms and smiled.

- I would like to seize this opportunity, your siblings are not here and perhaps that will grant me more of your attention.

- I never get tired of my siblings, I should warn you – Susan chuckled a bit, for she was lying shamelessly in the name of flirting. Of course she got tired of her brothers, especially now they were insisting in accidentally reminding her of Caspian, but she wanted to try Charles' jealousy -. But sometimes I just feel like either being with them or being left alone.

- This is not one of those times, I hope – it took Charles quite a while to speak, because he waited until the awkward jealousy feeling inside of him vanished. God, Susan's brothers were so lucky! They met her better than anyone, which was an advantage. Of course Charles also considered disadvantages: as her brothers they would never be able to see her beauty the way he did.

- For you, today, it's not.

- Great, because I took the liberty of getting my food, and yours. I was hoping we could eat together.

- It would be quite weird to be with you all the way down the dining room and not to eat together.

- Thank you very much – Charles said as he moved the chair for Susan to seat, as a true gentleman would do.

- For what? – Susan's voice sounded clueless, which made her look cuter in Charles' eyes.

- For giving me the chance to get to know you better.

They spent the rest of the day together, and Charles was discrete enough to make it look as common friendship, to avoid gossip so Susan shouldn't have to worry about the Halloway boy again.

They talked about pretty much everything, including some subjects they had already discussed about and just didn't get bored of. They shared some of their experiences during the war, when Susan told him about her journey to America with her father (and, oh, how she enjoyed watching Charles getting jealous at the mention of that young soldier who fancied her) and Charles shared a little bit of his family situation. Which was curious, for he also lost his parents and lived now under the roof of his uncle and aunt, who had a son.

Susan enjoyed so much her time spent with Charles that she even came to forget Edmund and his ridiculous fight, Lucy and her concern about Arabelle's nationality issues, Peter and his lugubrious mood of the last week, and she even came to forget for one evening about Narnia and everything she had left back there.

Charles made her feel like a princess, made her feel safe.

For the first time she felt as if things could be what they once were.

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><p><em><strong>Note (again):<strong>_

So this was chapter five, I hope to be able to bring chapter six soon enough. For those who felt curious about Arabelle, you're about to know her whole story. For those who wanted to know what had happened with Susan and Caspian's double, now you do.

I really want to thank my reviewers, you keep this story alive! And if you can and want to, please wish me luck in my first day of school... Gosh, I feel like such a looser right now.

Just write a review and you'll make me a happy person.

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_(Quick update)_ Ok, I'm using the same argument I used in "Wanted to and never did": if you had already spent some of your time reading this far, I believe you can afford to spend thirty extra seconds to write a review. Five words from you really can change a person's day.


	6. Two unbelievable confessions

**"Betrayal may be a family thing".**

By: Sinattea.

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_**Disclaimer:**_ I didn't open the door to Narnia, I simply found it and crossed it, like we all did.

_**Summary:**_ _How far can a Pevensie go, just to see Narnia again? If Peter found out a dreadful secret about the White Witch, would he keep it just to have something Narnian to hold onto?_

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_**Note:**_ I'm supposed to be writing something school-homework-related right now but... not inspired at all, so I decided to come over here and update a little bit. I've been drowning busy lately because of school, and I hate to drop my stories aside, so today I'll drop homework aside.

In my opinion, this is _the_ chapter where everything actually begins... A huge secret will be revealed, and it will change the Pevensies' lives forever...

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Read, Enjoy, and Review!

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**Chapter 6: Two unbelievable confessions.**

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- I hope you understand the magnitude of the sacrifice I'm doing by giving you this opportunity, miss Austerlitz – finally said the principal.

Arabelle sighed and nodded with her closed eyes. After two hours of a magnificent speech (yes, she was like that, once she had started talking it was almost impossible to stop her words, one of the things she most appreciated about herself) defending her situation as a foreigner and her innocence as a german by telling him how she too lost everything she knew with the war. "There are no winners in war, only losers – she had said -. To defeat and to triumph are very different concepts at those times".

- I now understand the peculiar difficulty of your situation. A german in british lands.

- We were only looking for a new start. It wasn't easy.

- I can imagine, miss Austerlitz – said the principal -. I wish the whole school could have heard your speech. You can stay at Britton's College as long as you want to. But I have to punish you for your behavior before professor Smith.

- Do whatever you have to, mister – Arabelle surrendered. She had already avoided her fifth expelling from school, everything else didn't matter after that success.

- You'll work every afternoon at the library, from six to ten o'clock, later if Mrs. Mears needs your further help. Two weeks. And please be discrete from now on.

- I understand. Thank you very much – Arabelle felt actually happy, that was hardly a punishment, considering that she spent most of her evenings at the library anyway.

Arabelle walked towards the door, anxious to leave.

- Miss Austerlitz! – the principal called. She turned over her heels and faced him -. I read in your documentation that your family died.

- All of them. During bombings.

- I'm sorry.

Arabelle didn't say anything. She bit her tongue and walked away.

No matter what they said, she would always feel sorrier…

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Arabelle's routine suffered a change for good with all the library-punishment-issue. She now had a proper excuse to hide in there every time she needed it, just to avoid troubles with her classmates, and Mrs. Mears was actually beginning to like her. Even if she was german the woman had to admit that Arabelle was severely disciplined and organized, and the library was a cleaner place now that she worked there. Besides, she got an extra thing: she knew how to make noisy people quiet with only one stare; a gift that Mrs. Mears had lost many years ago. "I don't make them shut, my presence just gives them gossip worth whispering very low" she said to Mrs. Mears every time the woman congratulated her.

Arabelle enjoyed that. The books, the silence, the peace… Even when she knew her classmates spied her through the shelves waiting to surprise her with nasty jokes, she could always ignore that and be happy as long as her nose was buried in a book, because she loved stories, they were her passion. And it's necessary to mention no one ever managed to guide her into a trap; she avoided them amazingly, almost as if she had a radar or something.

And to make things better, Lucy went every afternoon to spend a couple hours talking to her, and their friendship was honestly improving.

Unfortunately, when it came to Peter, things were absolutely different. They hadn't spoken for days, and Peter avoided Arabelle's gaze both in the hallways and in the dining room. Arabelle didn't blame him, she knew she'd made a huge mistake, but she still hoped some sort of miracle would happen and Peter would forgive her. "Waiting means wasting, Arabelle – her tutor told her very often -. If it's true that destiny is already written then the only option is to speed it up so we can know the end sooner, wait until things occur means you're not in control of yourself. That's why _we_, and not _them_, started the war".

Maybe she should be the one to find Peter and initiate a conversation. The problem was that the only proper beginning for such conversation would be an apology, and Arabelle had troubles gathering the guts to pronounce this particular apology.

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One night she had stayed in the library more than the usual because Mrs. Mears had this terrible rheumatism, and Arabelle had to take care of things alone. Luckily it was friday, _the_ friday her punishment finished. There weren't many people to worry about that day and at that hour. So Arabelle had time to think. She was hoping maybe she could talk to the principal and Mrs. Mears to make the library job something permanent. Maybe she could take it as part of her scholarship, and save her uncle a few pounds a month.

All these mundane thoughts and hopes flooded the german girl's mind, and before she realized it she was already so absent she started singing as she put the books back on their places.

- Can't close my eyes, they're wide awake… Every hair on my body has got a thing for this place… – she sang melodiously, smiling to herself - Oh, empty my heart, I've got to make room for this feeling so much bigger than me… It couldn't be anymore beautiful… I can't take it in…

- "Can't take it in" – said a voice, pulling Arabelle out of her mind in the rudest of ways -, that would be a good name to this new song of yours…

Arabelle turned over her heels to face the intruder, her whole body in a defensive position, her hands rising before her face to protect it if needed.

She saw a tall silhouette leaning on the entrance door, with his hands in his pockets. Secretly, Arabelle recriminated herself, because she should've been able to hear the steps on the hallway, but she had been ridiculously surprised.

In fact, it was pretty much a big surprise. The one leaning on the door was Peter.

Arabelle looked through the shelves and confirmed the library was already empty, so she just left the books on a table and walked, carefully, towards the elder Pevensie.

- Good night – she said in a neutral voice, seeing how the land lies -. May I help you with a book? Please be fast because the library closes at nine.

Peter sort of grinned (at least Arabelle thought she saw him grin, but since he was half hidden in shadows it was hard to know), and completely ignored Arabelle's coment.

- You have a nice voice – he said, his own voice very monotone.

- But you didn't come to hear me sing, did you?

- No, that was merely a fortunate coincidence.

- Then why are you here? Were you spying on the german enemy? – asked Arabelle, coldly.

- No – said Peter, a bit of emotion slipping this time -. I heard you gave the principal quite a speech about your past. I'm here for that.

- What was that? – Arabelle felt her stomach drop to her feet, and her heart, for a second, stopped beating.

- To get my speech. To hear your eloquence about all that is past. Do you want to come to the chapel? – asked Peter, this time as a true gentleman. He even waved his hand in an inviting gesture. Arabelle doubted; she couldn't really read Peter's reasons to be there, and if they were the ones she suspected, then she wasn't ready.

- I have some work to finish… Maybe later…

- Listen, I'm sorry I judged you because you kept a secret. But you have to know that it has nothing to do with your nationality. Is the "telling-lies" issue what bothers me.

Arabelle remained silent for a minute, watching Peter completely emotionless. Then, something very similar to an involuntary half-smile appeared on her face: he had apologized to her, even when he really didn't have to.

- Do you want to discuss it _now_? – she asked.

- Yes, I think it's time.

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Arabelle sped up and closed the library after only two minutes. She took a second to herself to rejoice at the knowledge of her speed and then turned to follow Peter, who was already heading to the chapel through the lonely corridors. Somehow, he looked so self-confident, as if he were once more the magnificent High King he had once been. The girl felt intimidated yet fascinated, a real mix of feelings exploding inside of her all at the same time. She knew what was coming: the moment of truth which she had feared for so long; but that other feeling, that strange combination of enthrallment and bashfulness that invaded her when she was with Peter, she had no idea how to define it, or explain it. It made her feel uncomfortable and irritated.

Peter entered the chapel, and Arabelle followed him. She couldn't believe how was it possible that she (_she_, the tutor's favorite) felt so mortified before Peter. But whatever the reason, it was no longer valid, for it was the moment of truth; bare and brutal truth.

When she got through the door and into the chapel, Arabelle slipped and Peter held her. There was no need of more for the girl's face to turn completely red, something she hated about herself: she was too easy to read thanks to her so pale skin, always blushing whenever an emotion (positive or negative) was too strong inside of her.

- _Danke_ – she murmured, uncomfortable -, but I can stand on my own feet.

- Yeah, I know that already – said Peter. Arabelle froze for a second, not knowing how to understand that.

They sat on the chapel's benches, facing each other. Arabelle bit her lips and started playing with her necklace once again.

- Why are you nervous? – asked Peter.

- I'm not nervous.

- Yes, you are. You keep doing that thing with your necklace – pointed Peter.

Arabelle dropped it at once. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the apology she was supposed to say, but she couldn't force herself to do it.

- Why am I here? – she pronounced, her voice ice-cold.

- I think you know – Peter was excessively serious.

- Well, I'm not the one who walked inside the room and asked you to come here, am I? – Arabelle was so nervous she was actually getting annoyed. Peter seemed a bit irritated too.

- I told you already: we're here to talk about your past!

- _Wie bitte…_? My past? And what about yours!

- Well, I wasn't the one who lied in the first place! For Aslan's sake Arabelle! You can't hide your secrets forever – Peter was so upset he didn't even notice the so obviously Narnian reference.

- What do you want? – shouted Arabelle desperately, standing up. She was losing control, she had to say it, she wanted to… but she was afraid - What?

- I want the truth – demanded Peter -, no more. And it isn't less than what I deserve.

- Truth – she understood -. And what truth would you like to listen? Because there must be something important you know that makes you feel so sure that what I'm telling you isn't the truth.

- I just want to know what part of what you've said has been a lie – at this point of the conversation, if it can be called so, Peter also stood up.

He was beginning to regret the decision of talking to Arabelle. He wasn't even sure why he had decided to do it so suddenly. He had been thinking about it for weeks, since Lucy went to his bedroom to intercede in Arabelle's favor, but he didn't feel ready for a confrontation back then and he certainly didn't feel ready now. But he was there already, and there was no point in cowering. Besides, he was not a coward (NEVER!). He knew what he wanted, and he would fight to get it.

- But you already know that – Arabelle continued, pulling Peter back to the present time and place -. What do you want? – she repeated.

- Alright, then. I want to know what you haven't told me.

- And what makes you believe I'm giving in?

- Because I can see in your eyes that you want to tell me your secrets – when he said this, Peter recovered composure. He was upset, yes, and he was loosing his patience, yes, but he was a king and it was part of it to be in control of himself. Kings don't think with a boiling head, they serene themselves and see everything through a cool and balanced mind -. Tell me your story, Arabelle. I'm asking you to.

- Asking… or commanding? – she defied, something threatening gleaming in her eyes.

Peter didn't like that, he was being comprehensive, he was giving her a chance, why would she waste it like that?

- Are you mocking me? – his dignity, his pride… he had to control them…

- Oh, no – said Arabelle sarcastically -. I just think you should also tell me your truth.

- I didn't lie in the first place! – replied Peter once again.

Arabelle bit her lips. She knew she was messing it up, she knew she was in no position of making any demands because Peter was right: he had been honest from the very beginning. He didn't even try to dissimulate the fact that he knew Arabelle's music was foreigner, he did not lie. Arabelle had to give in, so she did, but she'd take Peter's confession down with hers, just like her tutor taught her to once.

- Alright, you win – she said -. You won your majesty!

- There's no reason to mock me like that…

- Oh, but I'm not mocking! I'm finally being as respectful as I must! – Arabelle's voice high-pitched a bit - Or isn't that what you are? Isn't that what you are, _High King_ Peter the Magnificent?

- There's only one way you could know that – Peter's satisfied smile widened all over his face.

- Yes, your highness, that's it. It's just what you've suspected since the very first moment you walked into our store and heard me playing faun-like lullabies with my violin – the german girl's hands moved maniacally, according to every change and modulation in her voice. Arabelle's hands were the most expressive thing about her, and right then, they were shouting -. You want the truth Peter? Here it is: _yes_, _I have been in Narnia_…!

- I knew it!

- …and I was at the service of the White Witch.

_"What?"_

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>**:**_ Yes, Arabelle knows Narnia, lived in there, and worked for the evil White Witch. Now I'd like her to tell you her story, in her own words. The following part of this chapter is a conversation in which she explains her past to Peter. It's not beautifully written or anything of the sort, it's supposed to have the feeling of what it sounds like when we speak a lot faster than we should._  
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Just a tiny warning: Arabelle is german, but I don't speak german at all. :-)

_**Update (02/03/2013): **_I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart to **Peccopa**, who came here like a superheroine and offered a helping hand to improve Arabelle's voice. Now Arabelle can express herself in her mother tongue, yay! She tends to speak in german when she's getting very emotional no matter if it's a possitive or negative emotion.

I included just the german phrases and not the meaning/translation because of a reason: if Peter doesn't understand Arabelle's whole story, so must not the non-german reader. As the story progresses she'll teach Peter a bit of german and we'll get to know the meaning of what she says. :-)

Now, if you want to know Arabelle's story, read on. She's finally ready to let you know...

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- Please don't hate me. Don't hate me – Arabelle's voice softened incredibly and her face was hidden behind her expressive hands, revealing the deepest regret -. It all happened long before the four of you arrived.

- _What_? – Peter gasped again - At the service of _whom_?

- You wanted to know my story: here it is, from the very beginning – started Arabelle before Peter could seriously think of some questions -. And pay attention because I'm only saying it this once. First goes Germany. I'm from Munich, just as I said; my father was an orchestra director and there was something british in my mother's blood. I was eleven years old, and my brother Joachim was nine…

- _Brother_? Y-you had a brother?

- _Ja_, I did. But let me speak… – the german accent was slipping through Arabelle's words - The war was about to start, and the nazis were recruiting people. Naturally my V_ater_ had to go, he fought in the first war and he became somehow important then, he was a captain or so. But he always regretted the first war, and he didn't want to fight again. So he and _Mutter_ made a plan, _den verrücktesten Plan_, and one day she went to pick us from school on her own. She told us that our _Vater _had abandoned us, that he ran away with a cellist girl _aus dem Orchester_. _Mein gott_, how we cried that day, and _Mu__tter_ cried worse. When the nazis arrived she felt humiliated to confess what happened, she begged the nazis to find_ mein Vater_ and take him to the battlefield so he couldn't be with that cellist. And they left, hating him with all of their souls. And right before Joachim and I hated _Vater_ ourselves, one night _Mutter_ took us down into the basement… to see _Vater_. He didn't abandon us, that was the plan to keep him out of the war; he would hide in our basement until the führer stopped recruiting soldiers.

Arabelle didn't realize it, but she was smiling in a very sad way. As if she remembered the old days and found them extremely painful. Peter understood that… perfectly.

- Next day Joachim and I went to school with such a big smile in our faces… Guess that's what gave us away, or maybe our neighbors just suspected, or maybe someone from the orchestra realized there was no cellist girl. The point is that three weeks later, when we were arriving home after school, the SS was already there. They had broken into our house and found _unseren Vater_, and they just took him away, _sie haben ihn sich nicht verabschieden lassen_. He was sent to war as a mere soldier, and _Mutter_ lost everything. The nazis said we didn't deserve our wealth when _mein Vater_ was a traitor. So we lost the house, the furniture, the money, pretty much everything, even our honor.

- I'm sorry to hear that – said Peter, so low-voiced it almost seemed like he was talking to himself. He thought Arabelle wouldn't hear him, but amazingly, she did.

- Things always change with wars, don't they? – she shrugged - We were lucky, anyways. _Vater_'s brother welcomed us in his house, which was nice, he's always been a nice person, but things wouldn't work out because a couple days later _Mutter_ received the news… _Weißt du_, she worked at a telegraph station and she got a message: _Vater_ had been executed, because he failed on purpose to his citizen duties.

At that moment Arabelle had to stop herself for a minute. A minute of silence on the name of her father, and Peter respectfully joined her. Then she continued.

- That very night _mein Onkel_ told us how he had made arrangements with some of his friends; he's always being in the merchant business, _also kennt er eine Menge Leute_, but to make it short we were leaving _Deutschland_, right before things got worse. I'm saving you all the details, you just need to know that we made our way into Denmark and there traveled by ship to come here, to England. I don't remember much of that journey, though I know I should but… I was terrified, I was leaving everything I knew and I didn't even understand why. Later we reached Norwich, and there we bought some train tickets. We were all paralyzed, worse than in the ship: amongst the british at times of war, without speaking a word of english. We tried learning at the ship, but not many there spoke it _und die, die es taten, konnten nicht rausfinden, dass wir Deutsche und nicht etwa Dänen waren_. But we somehow managed to buy the tickets; four tickets, for Joachim, _M__utter_, me and _mein_ O_nkel_. So we traveled by train… to London, and we would've reached it, _man konnte die Stadt schon vom Fenster aus sehen_, but the bombing happened.

- The Blitz…

_- Ja, Der Blitz_. Not only London but many railways and roads were also bombed that day. I can recall _mein Onkel_'s voice, telling me to take Joachim with me to the last wagon… and jump. We tried, he and I, _Mutter schaffte es nicht_. And by the time we reached the last wagon, the train derailed… then we fell to the snow, which was sort of good because we didn't dare to jump ourselves. I think we fainted, when I reacted again I was half buried in the snow. When I finally lifted my head I knew from the beginning something had changed. There was no smoke, no bombs, no train… no people. We were alone, and the trees were so tall and frozen they just didn't seem real. I tried to wake Joachim, but his passing out was worse than mine, he was weaker and_ ich konnte ihn nicht aufwecken_. I went terrified again, for a moment I feared he might as well be dead… I tried to cry, _verstehst du_? But I just couldn't, Narnia's magic didn't let me, it made me realize my violin was still attached to my back, and it inspired me to play over and over again, until my melodies brought Joachim back to his senses or my fingers were so numbed I couldn't play anymore… Fortunately Joachim woke up first, and together we came to the conclusion that everything was a dream. We were cold and hungry, but we also feared the feeling would get worse if we returned to the real, burning world. So there we stayed, watching the trees, and the white sky, and the snow… Maybe we would've died there without knowing, but then he showed himself to us…

- He? – came Peter's first real interruption.

- _Ein Hirsch_. A deer came to us from the deep forest. He walked around us, examined us, and finally observed at us with real intelligence in his eyes. He made a gesture with his head, asking us to follow him, to go with him. _Gott sei dank_ he didn't speak from the very beginning because we wouldn't have understood a word of it, but we did understand his gesture, so we followed him. And he led us to a lovely house carved in the stone at the very feet of the mountains. And there lived a faun…

- A _faun_? Which faun?

- None you've ever met. His name was Temeus. He was… amazing. _Wahrlich_. He welcomed us in his house without questions, he fed us, played music for us, taught us to speak and write in english. He made us feel we were at home once again. He made us realize this wasn't a dream, but it wasn't a nightmare either, and I must tell you that, although he did explain to us what Narnia was and all about its magical nature, he never told us about the White Witch and her feral rule upon the country. We lived with Temeus for about a year, and _ja_, before you mention it: we did learn english very fast.

- That's not what I was going to say.

- Yes it was, I'm not as blind as you'd wish me to, _Eure Hoheit_.

- Keep going – said Peter after rolling his eyes.

- _Werde ich ja_... We lived with Temeus for a year, and he never let us out of the house, _nicht ein einziges Mal_. We spent our days huddled by the window, but he remained inflexible. Yet one day he wasn't at home, and Joachim was terribly cold and we were out of wood. I thought I wouldn't harm anyone by going out to collect some wood to keep him warm, so I left the house and wandered around for a while. And I screwed everything up… Temeus never came back to the house, and we were just right to worry about him because the deer arrived in his place, looking scared. He told us it was necessary for us to leave the house…right away. So Joachim and I just picked up our things (_es war nicht viel, nur unsere wenigen Anziehsachen, Joachims Bücher und meine Violine_) and followed him. The deer said we had being discovered and we would temporarily hide with Temeus' son. That's where he was leading us. But by the time we reached the house…_Es war zu spät_. When we entered the deer was already turned to stone and a tall, pale, threatening-looking woman stood amidst the hall. Temeus' son was there, kneeling before her, probably pleading for his life. "So here they are – she said -, the son of Adam and the daughter of Eve. I believe the Temeus faun didn't see them coming to me when he swore I'd never find them. And look, two is better than none". The faun tried to say something, in our defense I guess, but the witch never gave him the chance. "Give them to me, faun" she ordered, and she repeated so again and again and again. And I needed no more than one look to understand Joachim's life and mine were in peril. I begged the faun to help us, I pleaded him with my eyes as I tried to keep Joachim enfolded in my arms…

- And did he…?

- _Nein_. No, he didn't. He handed us over to the witch without complain. I remember I even told him: "I thought you were our friend". But I don't blame him, never did; I could read immediately in his eyes that he was more frightened than Joachim and I were.

- He just… let her take you both?

- _Ja_ – Arabelle shrugged again, trying to make things sound less dramatic -. We were escorted to her castle by wolves, furious, angry and _unbelievably_ fast wolves. Don't you believe we didn't try to escape, well I did…didn't let Joachim try. Once we were there the witch didn't delay to find out it was just Joachim and I, that we weren't the four siblings from the prophecy… and that we weren't useful. She decided to kill us in less than a second. But I wasn't going to allow it. When she was about to murder us, I stood between her and Joachim, trying to stop her, defying her. The urgent feeling to keep my brother safe made me brave… and smart, and for a minute I felt creative in the way I needed. I spoke to Jadis trying to convince her that if she let us live, if she ensured our survival in Narnia, we would _darüber hinaus_ faithfully serve her. I told her how we, being humans, would be more effective, that we could learn faster than any other creature; that we could pretend we were the four from the prophecy, say our other two brothers were locked in the ice castle and trick some narnians to go in there, right into Jadis' hands; that we could gain the four siblings' trust easily if you ever arrived… There were many strategies I proposed her in that minute, and she liked them. I convinced her: she let us live.

- And… all those "strategies"… Did you ever put them in action against the Narnians?

- To my everlasting shame… _ja_, _Ich tat es. Viele Male_. Jadis accepted us as part of her army and ordered her soldiers to teach us. We were first trained by wolves, who taught us to hunt and fight, and then we were sent a couple years to the mountains with the black dwarves to learn archery and blacksmithing, and finally Jadis herself taught us how to use a sword. Years later we became dangerous and loyal servants. When I was twenty three Jadis conjured a spell on us to make us live longer and grow up slower, so we could "serve her for a thousand years". In total we served the White Witch for – she made fast mental math - twenty seven years since the day of Temeus' death. And we became brave warriors, her elite guards, feared by all narnians… Of course a time came when narnians learned the truth about our allegiances and deciphered all of our tricks, so my initial strategies became pointless. Jadis changed our plans of attack. After that we were named "The White Shadows", because of whom we served and because of the way we hunted: no one knew we were there until it was too late, we hid in the forest's shadows and merged in them, undetectable.

- You _were_ the _"White Shadows"_? – Peter gasped, involuntarily.

- Ever heard of us? – Arabelle muttered, trying to hide her shame with sarcasm.

- Oreius told us once the Witch used to have bodyguards, two trained assassins…

- Oh – Arabelle looked away, this time her face reddened evidently, and she seemed to be willing the earth would quake at any minute to swallow her alive -, I guess that would be us…

- He said they disappeared before our battle…

- That's exactly what happened… Of course everything changed when the rumor of Aslan spread around. Jadis began to act crueler than usual, which caused my tutor to change his behavior before me… which caused _me_ to behave differently. _Weißt du_, you have to understand that since that fatidic day of Temeus' death I had lived with Jadis' presence inside my head, but I eventually became aware of it, and decided I didn't like it… So I talked to my tutor and we made a plan to set me and Joachim free. We had to leave the ice castle before the war started. But when I tried to convince Joachim of it… Well, it didn't work, so I cheated Joachim to believe that Jadis wanted us to go north and guarantee the help of the giants. He came with me, but discovered my lie… and abandoned me in the forest were the narnians heading to Aslan's Table found me.

- I can imagine they weren't very fond of you after twenty seven years…

- _Gott_, they fought me brutally. I was defeated and tied to a tree, and they all had different ideas of what to do with me… But I was never hurt. I escaped because a fox told the narnians to let me go, "Aslan will give her another chance" he said.

- A _fox_? – Peter asked. Arabelle nodded - I believe I can guess which fox…

- I escaped, but I didn't know what to do. _Mein bruder_ was gone, my tutor was gone as well; the life I had led for almost three decades simply disappeared, _zusammen mit dem Schnee geschmolzen_… And I ran away. As soon as I learned about Jadis' death I turned and headed towards south, to Archenland. I hid in Anvard for eleven years, and there I lived as a musician for King Lune, and he loved narnian music. That's how I know all those melodies that mean so much to you… My life in Anvard wasn't bad, until I noticed one day that I was growing older, that the spell of Jadis had vanished from me, and I suddenly desired to be back in Narnia, _wieder in Temeus Haus zu sein_. So I went back to Narnia, on winter, and I wandered for days looking for Temeus' house… And suddenly…that was it. _Es war vorbei_. I slipped and fell to the snow…and when I lifted my head I abruptly found myself twelve years old again, alone back at the train in England. Surrounded by smoke, fire and death… I cried my heart out, and cursed, and blasphemed against everything… When _mein Onkel_ found me he thought I was crying because of the bombings, but I didn't even remember much detail of it.

- You cried for Narnia – Peter understood the feeling better than anyone.

- _Ja_, and later I cried for my family. And I hate crying, makes me feel weak. But I had to cry because once back to my reality _mein Onkel_ was all I had left. My _Mutter_ didn't survive _Der Blitz_, and Joachim was gone. I let _mein Onkel_ believe he had died at _Der Blitz_ too, another mistake to blame myself for…

- And what's the rest of the story?

- It's not nearly as interesting as things were in Narnia. We headed to London with the survivors, and managed to settle down thanks to my perfect english… And now the war is finally over I'm ruining everything again because everybody knows I'm german and _der Süßigkeitenladen meines Onkels_ is in risk thanks to my stupidity!

- It wasn't your fault – Peter wasn't sure why, but he felt inclined to solace Arabelle.

- _Ja_, it was, all of it was. I betrayed _mein Onkel_! My life has being nothing but a series of betrayals one after another. _Mein Vater_ betrayed _Deutschland_, _Deutschland_ betrayed us, _meine Mutter_ betrayed us! Temeus' son betrayed us… We betrayed Narnia, I betrayed Jadis, Joachim betrayed me and I betrayed him in return… – she was talking fast and desperate and she needed a second to catch her breath - Betrayal may be a family thing, you know? It is indeed for me…

- Arabelle, I… – Peter was shocked, he didn't know what to say.

- You should hate me, Peter. You really should.

Arabelle finally sat on the bench, her hands running through her head trying to stop an upcoming headache. Peter was confused. He knew he should hate Arabelle for being a servant of the White Witch, but he couldn't. The way she had told him her story… She clearly was repented. But there was more: she clearly was a victim. She and her brother.

Peter tried to imagine what it would feel like to be in Arabelle's shoes. He remembered the night of the Blitz and how scared they all were, but no one important for him died that day. Arabelle, on the other hand, had lost everyone… even herself…

Then Peter did something he never thought he'd do with Arabelle: he held her hand and entwined fingers with hers. Arabelle stared at him utterly confused for an entire minute, but later she understood that Peter was being sympathetic, and she felt as grateful as a human can feel.

- You may find it hard to believe – Peter began to speak -, I find it hard myself, but I don't hate you. If you give me a second to think about it I get to believe you did the one thing you could do: surviving. And you protected your brother's life. I can't tell I would've done the same, of course not, but I understand… I guess.

- Do you?

Peter nodded slowly. Arabelle looked down at her shoes and focused entirely on them, simply letting time pass by.

Gosh, telling the truth had actually felt better than expected.

It felt… it tasted almost like freedom.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong> **(again): **_So that's Arabelle's story, that's the big secret she hides, that's her true past, that's the reason she plays Narnian music all the time...

Now, all we can do is wonder if Peter will tell his siblings or, on the contrary, protect Arabelle's secret. One thing I know for sure: Peter and Arabelle share the very same melancholy feeling upon Narnia. They miss Narnia too much, and they would do just anything to go back...

And I've said too much...

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Now I have a little challenge for you all: Can you guess who was the faun who handed Arabelle and her brother over? Can you guess who was Arabelle's tutor? It's easy!

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_ If you already spent some of your time reading this far, I believe you can afford spending thirty extra seconds to write a review__. Three words can draw a smile on people's face._


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